


Cadmium Green

by babyblueglasses



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Adulthood, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Dick Pics, Inappropriate Behavior, Internalized Prejudices, Melancholy, Tony's an entitled Douchebag in most of this one sorry, not a happy ending fluff sort of fic, roommate brothers, tattoo needles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2251368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyblueglasses/pseuds/babyblueglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki agrees to a party at Steve’s apartment, Thor thinks that Loki is finally showing interest in meeting his friends. He doesn't see it coming when one of them takes an interest in meeting Loki.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Thor hadn’t expected him to come along. He was accustomed to Loki turning down invitations to meet his friends and disappearing when any of them showed up at the flat they shared. Despite living together, Thor hardly saw his younger brother. Loki only said he was working, and never offered explanations for the places he disappeared to in his off hours. Thor marked his appearances by the powdered sugar left scattered across the counter and dishes in the sink. 

Since they had walked into the building Loki had not spoken. Instead, his eyes roamed over the standard hallway carpets and sterile walls. Thor was not certain what Loki’s judgment of the place was, just that Loki was definitely judging it. Thor knew that look well. 

Thor shrugged it off, turning the corner to another long hall of apartment doors. Steve lived in an expensive apartment complex working as an up and coming painter. Loki’s eyes had sparked when Thor mentioned that the party was at his apartment. Thor assumed that was the reason Loki came. 

They stopped, shoulder to shoulder, outside of Steve’s door. Thor raised his hand and knocked, speculating on whether or not someone would hear through the music pounding inside. 

“Maybe I should call,” Thor wondered aloud. 

“Surely he has a doorbell,” Loki offered, reaching for the handle. The inked skin of long arm peeked out from beneath a black jacket as he tried opening the locked door. He hummed disapprovingly. 

Thor watched Loki roll the jacket up to his elbows. Intricately designed patterns adorned his pale arms. Loki had designed all of his tattoo sleeves and done some of the work himself. Privately, Thor believed that if Loki hadn’t gotten them done, their father would’ve chosen Loki to take over the family business instead. Loki had excelled in school, and as it was, their father had a hard time understanding why Loki would open a tattoo shop when he could’ve been working in the company instead. 

He wanted to be president or nothing at all, Thor thought. Loki caught him staring at his arms and locked eyes. A strange, unsettling smile pulled back his lips. There was something aggressive in Loki’s eyes, like he was daring Thor to say something, but frightened of what Thor would say all the same. 

“I’m going to call,” Thor said. He pulled a Stark Industries Mjolnir model phone from his pocket. 

“You’d think they’d leave open the door if they knew people were coming,” Loki said. He rattled the handle, then sighed irritably. Thor bit back a grin. Loki seemed _eager_. That was new. 

“Yeah,” Thor said. Loki glanced back to see that Thor was answering someone on the phone. A second later the door swung open. 

Music and sound poured into the hall. Inside it was packed with people, standing in clusters holding red cups or playing a drinking game with quarters. “Good to see you. This is my brother, Loki,” Thor said, resting his hand on Loki’s shoulder and distracting him from scoping the place out. 

The man that had answered the door had been of no interest. Loki glanced at the blue-eyed man. He appeared stiff and overly formal. Really, who went to a party like this in a suit and tie? “This is Phil Coulson,” Thor said. 

Phil grinned, similarly unimpressed with Loki. “Come on in,” he said, exchanging a look with Thor. 

Loki could hear Thor’s voice fading behind him as he scanned the room for Steve. He’d seen the man’s face in a recent magazine and, “—Nick, this is Loki,” Thor said. 

Loki turned around, coming face to face with the man. With the drink in his hand and an easy smile on his face, Nick seemed friendly, laid-back even. “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Nick said. Loki’s eyes flicked over to Thor before he smiled primly. 

“I’m sure you have,” he said. 

Nick laughed and then shook his head, shooting Thor some sympathy before making up an excuse to leave. “Loki,” Thor said, just as a pop song started up behind them. Someone yelled that it was their jam and ran in-between them, bumping Thor in the chest. “Loki, try and make an effort.” He reminded himself of their mother. 

Loki’s eyes drifted languidly towards him beneath half-lids. He dropped his hands into his pockets. “Where’s Steve?” 

Thor let out a sigh. He spotted Sam and Peggy standing in the kitchen doorframe. “Probably over there,” he said. Loki eagerly followed the direction of his gaze, but saw nothing except a throng of people. “Follow me,” Thor said. 

They began to work their way through, Thor parting the crowd like a boulder in a stream. 

“Hey!” Someone called to them. “Point Break!” The voice was loud, overly confident. Loki turned towards its source with utter contempt. A cocky, bright-eyed man was hugging Thor hello. “Thought I wouldn't see you with the new business thing,” Tony said, stepping back. Loki caught him taking a look from the corner of his eye, trailing a few moments longer than was normal. It felt like an appraisal. Loki subconsciously leaned away. 

“And I thought you’d be working on your doctorate,” Thor said. It was clear from his tone he was kidding, but Tony grinned like a caught school kid all the same. 

“I’m teaching my doctorate to write itself,” Tony said. He grinned at Loki like he was finding a coconspirator. Loki’s expression remained flat. “I think I’m going to name him Jarvis.” 

Tony stared at Loki, waiting for him to say hello or introduce himself. “This is my brother,” Thor said. They watched Tony’s face as the wires connected. 

“OH,” Tony said. His eyes flashed towards Thor questioningly. “Hi, yeah, I’m Tony Stark. Nice to finally meet you.” He reached out and grabbed Loki’s hand with a firm grip. “Nice ink, I thought about getting something done on my chest when I was in my twenties, but it never happened.” 

Loki’s cold hand slipped away. “I did my first in my twenties,” he said. Pride faintly colored his words. He rubbed his hand against one of his arms, stretching a geometric design as the skin pulled taut. 

“So did I,” Tony said, laughing. The laugh fizzled out as he stared at Loki, who didn’t respond to the joke. Tony grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Thor. He got a shrug in return. “Yeah, I’m too much of a playboy for you to believe that, huh? Totally unbelievable.” Loki’s eyes narrowed as he took in Tony’s words. “So what do they mean?” Tony asked, gesturing towards Loki’s arm. 

“This one,” Loki said, pointing to an abstract segment of his tattoo, “symbolizes the post-modern bias of transcendentalism in the 1820’s among pseudo-intellectuals.” A smirk slipped up into the corner of his mouth, but his voice stayed somber and earnest. He rotated his arm, showcasing arcs of black ink. “These correlate to prominent astronomical algorithms.” He smiled sweetly at Tony. His voice drawled on, “and this,” he said, pointing at a watercolor nebula, “commemorates bullshitting.” 

Tony’s eyes were dancing as he broke into an honest smile. “I like him,” he said, grabbing Thor’s bicep. “Can I keep him?” 

A wry grin slid across Thor’s face. “That is a difficult thing to do.” 

Tony beamed at Loki, charmed by his blunt snark and disregard. He needed this tall, lean artist with the sleek black hair and sharp mouth in his life. He let his eyes wander over the trim jacket and rightly guessed that his dark jeans had been tailored. 

“Maybe you can design something for me,” Tony said. He held out his bare arm for Loki to inspect. “I’m a fan of bullshitting too.” 

Loki hardly glanced at the tan arm presented to him, its blue vein stretching up from the skin like a snake. “I can see that,” Loki said. Tony dropped his arm to his side. 

Tony daringly looked to Thor, who had been distracted by Clint. He seized the opportunity to lean in close to Loki. The taller man inhaled sharply. “It doesn’t have to be my arm,” Tony said, just below his breath. 

Loki burst into laughter. It rattled in his throat and came out in an enchanting way that made Tony’s pulse quicken. “I don’t think you’d handle that well,” Loki said. “It’s quite painful.” Tony’s eyebrows shot up, encouraging him on. “I’ve had clients pass out.” 

“ _You_ probably just overwhelmed them,” Tony said rakishly. The smile slipped from Loki’s face. He nodded his head to the side, slightly displeased. He had been trying to frighten Tony off it, but the insult was unexpected. Tony laughed awkwardly for a second. “What do you want to drink?” 

“Whatever’s here,” Loki shrugged. 

“I’ll be right back,” Tony said, shouldering his way into the crowd. Loki crossed his arms. He rubbed his upper arm, kneading his fingers into muscle as he watched Clint tell Thor a joke. His brother’s laugh boomed over the music. Loki’s gaze drifted over the furnishings, ignoring the people sprawled about. Steve’s apartment was duller than he had expected. He had hoped that some of Steve’s paintings would be hanging up, or that he’d be able to glance inside his studio. Loki didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the apartment hadn’t lived up to his expectations. “Here,” Tony said, appearing at his side as swiftly as a light switch. He stuck a cold beer bottle in Loki’s hand. 

Loki tilted the label around to find an artisan wheat beer. “So what do you like to do on the weekends?” Tony asked. “You should come by and see my design lab sometime.” 

Loki took a tepid sip. It was better than he’d expected. He took a long, heavy drink. “Alright,” Loki said indifferently. 

“Give me your phone number so I can call you,” Tony said. He took out his phone expectantly. Loki watched Tony rapidly type something across the screen. “I’ll text you so you have my number,” Tony said. 

A moment after he’d given it, Loki heard his phone chime. “Is that an Apple text tone?” Tony asked. “That’s unacceptable. I’ll give you one of my phones when you come,” Tony said. “I made a custom one for your brother, I would’ve made a second if I’d known.” 

Loki reached into his back pocket. The phone’s face was cracked in the center. Spidering lines crawled across the glass screen. He slid his thumb across the bottom. “It’s fine,” he said, oblivious to the horror on Tony’s face. 

“I feel like I’m a witness to a crime,” Tony said, taking a heavy swig of his beer. 

Loki slid it back in his pocket just as Thor waved someone over. When Loki looked up, Steve was standing there. 

The blonde crop of hair on his head caught one of the rotating party lights, illuminating in red. The shirt he wore was a tad too small, and left nothing up to the imagination. Immediately Loki’s mind flooded with questions, what the right thing to ask would be, how he could show Steve that he appreciated his work without coming on too strong. “—Loki’s a fan of your work,” Thor said. Loki’s attention snapped back at his name. He bristled at being called a fan.

“Yeah? Thanks,” Steve said. “I’m glad you could make it.” 

“I had hoped to see some of your work,” Loki said. The bottle’s condensation pooled against his tight fingers. 

“It’s all downtown in my studio,” Steve said. “You can swing by with Thor sometime if you want though.” He said it casually, and Loki couldn't help feeling the slightest bit of disappointment. He wanted to be recognized as an artist, not just a fan or his brother’s tag along. “Are you playing on Sunday?” He asked Thor, picking up some conversation that Loki had never been a part of. 

“Of course,” Thor said. 

“Great. Sam’s gonna play too, he’s got a great tackle.” 

“I don’t play either,” Tony said beside him. Loki glanced over, wondering if the disappointment had shown on his face. “Wanna go sit down?” 

Steve and Thor were in a full-blown conversation. Loki nodded. He followed Tony over to a table. For a split second he had the impression that Tony wanted to leave the party, but dismissed it. If Tony wanted to leave, he wasn’t the only one. 

They settled at the back of the table. It was out of the way enough that they didn’t have to shout to hear one another. Tony filled in most of the talking, and after a while Loki stopped watching the clock. 

Tony was good at making conversation. He could make Loki laugh, and it was fun to have someone to snark along with. He may not have made a connection with Steve, but he couldn’t dismiss Thor’s friends as a pack of noxious jocks anymore. Tony was clever and quick on his feet. Loki was enjoying himself, and that was an enormous relief. 

Tony watched everything that Loki did fervently, imaging how it would feel to trace his fingers along the spiraling ink ornately woven into Loki’s skin. He wanted to untie the band holding back Loki’s slicked hair into a tight ponytail. His rich green eyes sparked whenever something delighted him, and Tony couldn’t get enough of it. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Tony asked after a while. He couldn’t bear to sit at the table any longer, not with Loki there like that. He saw confusion flash across Loki’s face before he concealed it. 

Did Tony think he was bored? Loki scrambled for the most neutral answer he could make. “Thor’s got the keys,” he said. 

“I’ve got keys,” Tony said. He grinned until he realized that Loki wasn’t following him. “Hey, what’s your sign?” He asked playfully. 

“Virgo,” Loki said dully. He listened for his brother’s voice booming behind them. 

“Perfect match,” Tony said, grinning. Loki’s fingers tapped against the table. “Okay, yeah, completely cheesy. But really, let’s get out of here. My apartment’s not far.” 

Loki shook his head. “That’s alright,” he said. Too late, he realized that Tony was not just being friendly. Feeling mildly sick with himself, he stood up from the table. “I’m going to get something else to drink,” he said, hoping that Tony wouldn’t still be sitting there when he got back. 

“Can you get me one too?” Tony asked. 

“Sure,” Loki said. He took a stiff step into the crowd. He pushed past groups of sweaty people, thinking that nights like these were the only times he missed Sif and the trio from their home town. He pushed through until he reached Thor. “Give me the keys,” he said. Thor got closer to hear him. “Give me the keys,” Loki said impatiently. 

“Are you leaving?” Thor asked. He knew the answer from Loki’s face, but he still wanted to hear something else. Loki’s shoulders were pinched back and tight. 

“I’ll come back and pick you up,” Loki promised. Thor stared at him, debating whether he should convince him to stay instead. After a tense moment he gave in, digging the keys out of his pocket. 

“I’ll text you when it’s over,” Thor said. Loki’s head bobbed in response. He was gone a moment later. 

Tony had been watching. He felt his heart sink into his stomach when Loki’s hand reached out expectantly, and Thor dropped keys into his hand. He tried to tell himself that Loki had changed his mind, that it was working out right, but he knew he was wrong. 

Loki was relieved to see Tony laughing with a curly haired red head as he slipped out the door. 

 

It was quiet now, with nothing but the sound of plastic bags and the clink of cans. Thor, Sam, and Clint had stayed behind to clean up the party. Tony sat on the kitchen table, playing with the tab on a beer can as Thor dumped the recycling into a large bag. “Who’s Loki seeing?” Tony asked, struggling to sound conversational. 

“He’s not seeing anyone,” Thor said. 

“Oh,” Tony said. The tab ripped off the can with a loud clink. “So…is he interested in—what’s he into?” 

Thor stood up straight, twisting the bag closed. “He’s never really been into anyone,” Thor said. 

“…never?” Tony said cautiously. 

Thor tossed the bag into the corner by the others. “It’s not really my place to say,” Thor said. Tony tossed the beer can back and forth between his hands, not really sure what possibility that left. He finished off the beer and tossed it into the sink. 

“Could he be interested in someone?” 

Thor had been checking his phone. It was rare for him to look uncomfortable, but his expression was unmistakeable. He tucked the phone into his letterman jacket. Brushing his long hair back from his face he said, “He…might not…not in the way you think.” Thor turned to evaluate him, and if Tony hadn’t been buzzed he might have felt bad about asking. 

Clint came into the kitchen just as Thor’s phone buzzed. He left, leaving Tony alone with Clint. “What was that about?” Clint asked, nodding his head towards where Thor had been. “I’ve never seen him make that face.”

“I was trying to get him to tell me about Loki,” Tony said. Clint leaned back against the counter, bracing his arms on either side. “He said that Loki’s never been interested in anyone. He’s what, twenty-nine? Thirty-one? There’s no way. I mean fucking look at him. There’s no way a guy like that’s not getting laid.” Tony rubbed his hand under his nose. “I think he just didn’t want to tell me.” 

Clint shrugged. “Thor told me about it one night when he was drunk,” Clint said. Tony scooted to the edge of the table. “He said he’s…” Clint had to search for the word for a moment. He was a bit tipsy, but not on the same level as Tony. “Ace? Asexual? Something like that.” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tony asked. He had drunk too much to realize that he was talking too loud. “Is he an amoeba?” Tony got off the table and pulled open the fridge with a heavy swing. 

“He doesn’t feel the need to have sex with anyone,” Clint said. “I think. To be honest, I kind of forgot we’d talked about it until now.” 

Tony popped open the can, ripping off the tab in the process. He tossed it into the sink with the other one. “Pshhhht," he scoffed. "He’s just stuck up. You should hear the way the guy talks,” Tony said. “It’s like listening to a textbook.” 

Clint picked at the bandage on the bridge of his nose. “Maybe he just hasn’t met the right person or has hormone problems or something.” Tony leveled him a look that called bullshit. “I don't know,” Clint said.

“You can’t not be attracted. Everybody wants to have sex. Why can’t we all just admit that and move on?” Tony asked. He started downing the beer in his hand, feeling bitter and put out. Loki could just say he wasn’t interested instead of making up some special snowflake bullshit. 

“Yeah,” Clint said. “Who knows. The guy’s not normal,” he said dismissively. “You know that.” 

“Yeah.” Tony chugged the rest of the can down. They all knew Thor struggled with his family dynamics, and Loki didn’t make it easy. Thor talked about him a lot. Tony slumped onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“Couldn’t you find it?” Steve’s voice carried into the kitchen. Clint turned over his shoulder to see Steve pause just outside the doorframe and look down at the floor. “There it is,” they heard Steve say. “Under the palette. Use as much of it as you want, I have plenty of it in my studio.” 

“Thank you,” Loki said. 

“Yeah, no problem.” Steve’s voice faded as he walked away. It was one long, agonizing minute before they heard the front door shut. 

“Shit,” Tony hissed. “How much of that do you think he heard?” 

Clint ducked his head around the doorframe. A box of painting supplies laid open on the floor a few inches away. “Probably a lot,” Clint said. 

“Fuuuuck,” Tony said. He brought his beer can to his lips but it was empty. 

Steve walked into the room, rubbing his eye. “Are you sleeping on the couch tonight, Tony?” 

“I’m not driving home,” Tony said irritably. He got up and went to the fridge. “I’m going to be damn sure of that.” 

 

The city lights zipped over the windshield in brief halos as Loki drove them home. Thor closed his eyes, dropping against the headrest. He drifted off until Loki jerked the car into their parking spot. Thor fumbled with his seatbelt. Loki was halfway up the stairs by the time Thor got out of the car. 

“You left this,” Thor said, holding up a tube of paint. 

Loki rammed the keys into their door. He tossed the door open and swung the keys over onto a table in the center of the dark apartment. They crashed with a loud jangle. “What happened?” Thor asked, flipping on the lights. He was wide awake now, aided by adrenaline. 

“You **told** them,” Loki said. He grabbed a heavy glass bottle from the counter and yanked out a stopper. 

“Told them what?” Thor said, his voice faltering with exhaustion. The bottle gurgled as Loki poured it into a glass, splashing some of the vodka onto the counter. He tipped back his head as he drank, glaring at Thor. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he poured another. Thor sat down uneasily on the couch. 

“The one with bandage on his nose said I had hormone problems,” Loki said. “You told him. You told them I’m ace.” 

Thor blinked rapidly, racking his brain for the answer. “I don’t remember telling him,” Thor said. “Loki, you know I wouldn't do that.” 

“Wouldn’t you?” Loki snapped. He sucked in a heavy breath. He knew that Thor was telling the truth. Thor was a terrible liar and too easy to read. “That Stark Industries friend of yours is appalling.” 

Thor leaned his arm over the back of the couch. “Did he say something to you?” The threat in his words was evident. 

“To me?” Loki asked innocently. “No. Not quite.” He finished off the glass. He felt lightheaded already. Loki wandered towards the couch, steadying his gait until he collapsed into the couch like an anchor. “Just that I’m not normal.” 

“Sometimes Tony says things without thinking,” Thor said quietly, trying to reassure him. 

“That’s obvious,” Loki said. For a while he said nothing. Thor slowly fiddled with the trim on his jacket. Loki's eyes became glossy, faintly red and bloodshot. He took a slow breath. “I hate talking to people and it turning into this,” he said. His voice wavered between rage and heartache. “They don’t believe me at all.” He brushed his hand across his hot cheek, snagging a strand of hair from his ponytail. He blinked back the heat rapidly forming behind his eye. “They act like I’m not even human.” 

Thor dropped his arm back along the couch, beside where Loki was sitting, holed up in the corner. “Someone’ll understand it,” Thor said. “What about Steve? You liked him.” 

“I like his art,” Loki said. He sniffed, wiping away the tears that were falling against his will. He stared down at the couch, his brows knitted. “I don’t know if I could like him like that, he’d…” Loki bit down on his lip. His head spun as the alcohol aided haze wracked his brain. “…I couldn’t be what he wanted.” He flicked away a piece of lint. “There’s no point.” 

“Steve’s an understanding guy and he’s been trying to get back into dating for a while,” Thor said. “You never know.” 

“No,” Loki said defiantly. He lifted his head, daring Thor to tell him he was wrong. “He won’t be fine with it. No one’s going to be fine with it.” He scrubbed at his face with the palms of his hands, finally reaching back and tearing out the hair tie. He dropped it behind the couch. 

Thor sat beside his brother, utterly at a loss of what to say. Loki usually kept his distress hidden. He didn’t know how to handle this topic with Loki, or the right things to say. Loki had never told their parents. He’d only told Thor after a similarly distraught night, years ago after they’d come back from a party at Fandral’s house. They’d only spoken of it a couple of times since then, and never in detail. 

“Why would they?” Loki asked, continuing on his train of thought. “No one wants a relationship without sex. Isn’t that the whole point?” He smiled, acerbic and hopeless. 

Thor thought to correct him, but then doubted himself. There had to be an answer that Loki needed to hear. “But don’t…” Thor tried to think about some of the things he’d found on google. “Some asexuals enjoy it?” 

Loki sucked a breath in through his nose before giving Thor a humorless stare. “Some,” he conceded. “Not all.” He brushed his fingers back through his hair, attempting to soothe himself. “Say whatever you wish about others accepting it, no one really believes that.” He heard Tony’s words ringing clearly in his head. “Either I compromise or play second chair in my own life.” Loki stretched out his leg, resting it on the coffee table. “I may as well be a monster,” he muttered, his face obscured by his hands. 

Thor didn't entirely understand him, and it was always unnerving on the rare occasions that Loki dropped his facade. He didn’t know how to deal with Loki like this. They sat in silence for a few minutes. “Maybe you should rest,” Thor suggested. “You’ve been drinking. This isn’t a good time to think about it.”

“It’s never going to change, Thor,” Loki growled. He had dropped his hands from his face. His glare could’ve singed holes into his brother. He let it go. He knew that Thor was trying, but it only made his misunderstanding ache that much more. 

Thor patted his leg. “You never know,” Thor said. 

“I do know,” Loki said, resting his pointer finger against his chin. He brushed his thumb back across his jaw. “I know,” he said quietly. He got up from the couch, using the arm to catch his balance. Thor watched him walk back over to the counter and pour another glass only to take a shallow sip. He licked his tongue along his bottom lip. 

He couldn’t be what they wanted him to be, and he resented the expectation that he should try. He was fine as he was. Loki took a slow drink. Maybe if he hadn’t overheard Tony talking, he would’ve considered trying to start some sort of relationship. Tony had been interesting to speak with, even if there was nothing attractive about him. It wasn’t like he was aesthetically unappealing. At least now he knew what Tony really thought, so there was nothing lost. Loki felt it burn down the back of his throat. He wondered how long he’d be able to forget about this again, until something else triggered the issue. 

“Come on,” Thor said, walking up to the counter. He rested his arm across Loki’s shoulders. “Go to bed. I can’t punch Tony’s face until tomorrow.” 

Loki laughed drunkenly. It wasn’t quite enthusiastic, but it was enough. He let Thor guide him towards his room as he stumbled over the lacquered wood floors. When they got to his door Loki took slow steps in and then threw himself against the mattress. He rolled onto his back and fumbled for the covers. “Good night, Loki,” Thor said from the doorway. 

“Shut the door,” Loki said, a fondness lurking beneath his demanding voice. He grinned as it clicked closed. He fell into sleep, his mind wobbling through chaotic dreams the entire night. In the morning he would show up to work early and forget about it until he’d get a text from Tony in the late afternoon. He’d leave it unanswered.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the sixteenth text from Tony. Loki deleted it without reading anything past the message notification.

“Something important?” Steve asked lightly. Loki slipped the phone back into his pocket. 

“No,” he said. 

This was his second visit to Steve’s studio. The first without Thor. It surprised Loki how natural it felt to stand inside the studio, listening to Steve’s voice as it faintly echoed back from the warehouse ceiling. Steve was good at answering questions, and though Loki couldn’t shake the sense that there was some cunning edge lurking inside Steve that wouldn’t hesitate to get what he wanted by any means, Steve was as wholesome as apple pie when the attention was on him. 

Loki wondered when he’d find out what Steve’s shadow was. Not that he particularly cared, he thought, as he dropped his hands inside of his pockets. He felt comfortable here. He liked Steve’s voice and the paint splattered concrete and the heavy chemical smell in the air. 

“So uh,” Steve said, uncharacteristically hesitant. “Would you consider doing something for me?” 

Loki slowly turned his head until he faced Steve, showing nothing on his face but mild interest. “I’ve been thinking about getting something done for a while,” Steve said. “Now seems like the right time.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying not to seem overly eager. “Could I talk you into designing a piece on me?” 

For a moment Loki was struck by how simple it was. How fast. He’d never expected Steve to ask. “Where were you thinking?” 

“Here,” Steve said, rolling up his blue plaid sleeve. He gestured around his bicep. Loki’s demeanor became exacting and analytical, evaluating the spot with critical interest. “I want to get a memorial piece done,” Steve said. “One of the drawings I gave to a friend of mine before he passed. I want to work his name into it.” Loki nodded his head. 

“I don’t work Mondays,” Loki said. “So I won’t have clients scheduled. You can come into my shop then. I’ll have a better idea when I see the drawing, but it’ll probably take a few hours.”

“That’s fine,” Steve said. “I was expecting that.” 

Steve seemed visibly relieved. Loki felt a tiny smirk sneak up onto his mouth. Steve was cute when he was like that. He wondered what his pain tolerance would be while the work was done. 

“What’s your rate?” Steve asked. He wanted to make it clear that he wasn’t just asking Loki to do something for him as a friend. He had every intention of paying Loki for his work. 

Loki leaned his weight back into his heels, staring forward at one of Steve’s paintings. His lips parted for a moment before he answered with a question. “How about a trade?” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve said. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to.” 

“I like your work,” Loki said. “Paint something for my shop. Does that sound fair?” 

A real smile lit up Steve’s face. “Yeah,” he said. “Okay.” He saw Loki relax, though he’d been playing it cool. “Would you like to see the drawing?” Steve asked. He started walking towards his desk before Loki could answer, gesturing for him to follow. 

It was a yellowed piece of notebook paper, framed in glass with a heavy black border. The drawing was obviously from Steve’s early years. The lines were wild and undisciplined with sheer enthusiasm. It was just a drawing of a target with a star in the middle, but there was something deeply endearing about it. Loki couldn’t make out the faded graphite written in childish scrawl along the bottom. “My friend Bucky and I used to make up these characters in school,” Steve said with practiced neutrality. “Just kid stuff, you know. I’d draw things for his characters or whatever. In college I was cleaning out stuff and found this from when we were kids. I gave it to him, just to show him. We’d kinda forgotten about it by then.” Steve looped his thumbs into his belt hooks, tugging just perceptibly. “He loved it.” Steve grinned, his mouth falling open halfway. “He wouldn’t shut up about it. He put it up in his kitchen.” 

Loki watched the light fade from Steve’s eyes, his shoulders hunch forward. Steve would’ve hidden it faster, but the realization that he was finally taking the steps to get this tattoo done after years of thinking about it was delaying his reaction. “What happened to him?” Loki asked. It was low, not prying, the quiet sort of question that implied that the speaker was well acquainted with the uglier side of life. 

“He died in a car crash,” Steve said. His voice swung back to something guarded, more polite. “He was driving a back road late at night and didn’t see the railroad crossing.” Steve brushed an invisible speck of dust off the glass. “Anyway, I was hoping you could polish it up a bit,” Steve said. He gave Loki a look that leveled any doubt or misgivings about asking. “Modernize it. Here,” he said, holding it out for Loki to take. 

Loki’s gaze rested contemplatively on the drawing. “I can do that.” 

“Keep it,” Steve said. Loki’s eyebrows shot up. “That way you can use it for inspiration on the design,” Steve said. Loki lowered one eyebrow, but kept the other curiously raised, provocative even. “I don’t think I have to tell you what’ll happen if you lose that,” Steve said. 

Loki grinned. “No, you don’t.” His thumbs slid down the frame as he turned it over and set it protectively against his chest. “It’ll be good,” he promised. Steve nodded his head to the side. 

“I know,” he said. 

 

Steve sucked in a breath as he turned in the mirror. Loki guarded his expression, standing with crossed arms behind Steve in the glass. Steve rotated the plum colored lines left behind by the stencil transfer as he studied himself in the mirror. “That’s perfect,” Steve said finally, a little overcome. Loki let out the breath he’d been holding. 

“Say that after we’re done,” he said with a cocky grin. He gestured towards his open chair. 

“You’re lucky,” a woman said as he took a seat. She paused on the tattoo she was working on to gesture her head towards Loki. “He never makes exceptions.” 

“Sigyn,” Loki said, only managing to sound tired instead of reprimanding.

With a snarky “sorry boss,” she got back to work on her client. Steve was still studying her makeup when he heard plastic rip and turned over to see Loki placing a fresh needle in the tattoo machine. Steve relaxed into the chair.

Watching Loki work was comforting, somehow. He spoke in a distantly focused tone as he worked, easily weaving one conversation into another. Occasionally Sigyn would interject with something sarcastic or snarky, but Loki was a perfect match for her wit. When Steve wasn’t holding back laughter he was noticing that there was something self-possessed and alluring about Loki, despite his mercurial reputation. As he worked he was another person, and Steve couldn’t stop trying to figure out what the exact difference was. 

Loki wiped away ink, wishing that he could feel _something_ as the skin and muscle danced in his hand. He couldn’t. It was Steve’s tattoo, and it was beautiful, and he was proud of it…but that was all. 

He wished that he felt something else. Not obsessively. Just in a passive, mournful sort of way. Maybe if he could feel something then he could allow himself to feel just how much he liked Steve. He wiped away ink as he began again. That’s just not how this was. 

“That wall’s mine,” Steve said. Loki rolled back the conversation to see what he’d missed, but he still couldn’t connect it. “Right there,” Steve said. “Don’t put anything there.” 

Loki followed his gesture to the blank wall between two chairs opposite of them. “Are you sure you’re up to the challenge?” He asked.

“You know I am,” Steve said. 

“Wait until you’ve seen this first,” Loki said. 

Steve smirked. “Why? Is it that bad?” 

“You may end up thinking that wall’s not big enough,” Loki said. 

Steve glanced down at his arm with a grin on his face. For a while it was just the sound of the machine. Finally, Loki told him to stand. 

They walked back over to the mirror together. This time, Steve was completely speechless. Loki glanced away from the mirror when he saw Steve fighting back the urge to tear up. “Thank you,” Steve said finally. 

Loki guided him back towards the chair. “I’ll send you home with aftercare instructions.” 

They were quiet as Loki dressed the area with a bandage. Loki silently handed Steve the frame when he finished. Steve sat in the chair, staring down at it like he was on the cusp of saying something deeply sentimental. “I’ll expect you to have something for that wall, Rogers,” Loki said, sparing him. 

“Got it,” Steve said, standing up. He reached out to shake Loki’s hand, and though Loki found it quaint he returned it, enjoying Steve’s enthusiasm. 

Once Steve was gone Loki went back to his chair to clean up. He looked to where Sigyn always sat, but she had already gone home for the day. 

Taking his attention from the empty chair, Loki paced the length of the shop, closing things up. When he walked to the front door he paused at the light switch. A happy smile flickered across his face as he turned out the lights. He locked up the shop, feeling unusually content. 

That content gave way to unrest as he drove home. Something mildly disconcerting was bothering him, though he could think of nothing that would make him uneasy. He’d just tattooed his favorite painter. Steve had loved it, and Loki knew that he’d done work that was worth being proud of. There was nothing that could be making him unhappy or uneasy. He kept reminding himself of that the entire drive home. 

 

Loki watched the shop window as he listened to the ring back tone in the phone pressed to his ear, waiting for Steve to pick up. It was just a simple follow up call, to make sure everything was healing well. Outside was sunny on the manicured city street, where artisan shops were opening their doors. A black lab bounded by as Steve picked up. 

“Yeah, no problems,” Steve said cheerfully after Loki asked. “I’ve been showing it off.” 

A slow smile slid up onto Loki’s mouth. “Have you?” 

“You should’ve seen—” Loki didn’t hear what followed. He froze as he watched Tony step into view, look up at the signboard, and reach for the door handle. 

“I’m glad to hear everything is well,” Loki said quickly. A cluster of bells on the door rang as Tony walked in. His face lit up with a broad smile as he spotted Loki behind the counter. “Call me if there’s anything you need.” 

“Are you going to come down to the studio to see how it’s coming or do you want it to be a surprise?” Steve asked, clearly aware that he hadn’t been listened to. 

“A surprise,” Loki said on reflex. He regretted it the moment he said it. He’d much rather have an excuse to go down to Steve’s studio. 

Steve made an amused sound. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll call you.” 

“Okay,” Loki said, watching Tony slide his fingers across the counter top, pretending to be interested in a design beneath the laminate. The phone line went dead but Loki kept his ear pressed to the phone for a minute, torn between regret over how it had gone and his annoyance with Tony. 

Someone else had come with Tony. He looked like a body guard, but he kept a respectful distance. He moved out of the way as the door flew open. Sigyn walked in, carrying a hefty black bag. She winked her hello. Loki nodded his head back. Her bag slammed against the floor a few seconds later. The jangling sound of metal pieces followed. 

Loki set the phone down and irritably grabbed the binder that Tony had begun leafing through. “I brought you something,” Tony said. 

Loki just flipped the pages of tattoo pictures back to the beginning without looking up at Tony. “I figured you could use a new phone,” Tony continued, either missing or ignoring Loki’s indifference. He set a white box on the counter.  
 “I have a phone,” Loki said curtly. 

“Yeah, but you haven’t been getting my texts,” Tony said. “I figured that since it’s broken, I’d give you a new one. That way we can talk.” 

“It’s not broken,” Loki said. 

From the nervous twitch on Tony’s face it was clear he didn’t like that answer, but he slathered a new expression right back over it. “Think of it as a peace offering then.” 

Loki walked away from the counter to go sit at his chair. Sigyn was watching them with pinched curiosity. He knew that if Tony stepped out of line, Sigyn would be the first to say something. She was brazen and outspoken, and though he’d never tell her, it was one of the reasons he’d hired her. “My first client will be arriving in fifteen minutes,” Loki said. 

Tony had carried the phone box with him. He set it on Loki’s chair. “I’ve been thinking about getting something done,” Tony said. “Maybe I’m here for a tattoo.” 

“Loki’s wait list is a year and a half,” Sigyn said. She made it sound casual, but Loki knew her well enough to hear the irritation in her voice. 

“Wow,” Tony said. “I didn’t know so many people wanted one.” He grinned, just about to turn that into something charming, when Sigyn cut him off. 

“People fly from all over the country to have theirs done here,” Sigyn said. Loki bit back a grin as Sigyn preened over it, giving Tony a look that said he was out of his league. “We’re not some boardwalk shop where you get your drunk ass done.” Sigyn laughed, as if she’d been kidding. 

The man that had been following Tony stepped in, crowding Tony’s space protectively. “Happy,” Tony said, holding up his hand to push him away. “Meet Loki,” he said glibly, a split second later. Happy said a gruff hello. Loki picked up a bottle of red ink without saying anything. “We’re good here,” Tony said quietly. Happy took a few steps away, and Loki had the distinct impression that Happy would’ve said something if he hadn’t been given orders not to. 

“Look,” Tony said. “Take it.” He nudged the box closer to where Loki was sitting. 

They heard bells as the shop door opened. Loki got up from his chair, brushing past Tony without a second glance to talk to a woman at the counter. Tony glanced over at Sigyn. She was adjusting something on her machine as if they weren’t there. When Loki and his client started walking back towards his chair, Tony gestured to Happy that they were leaving. 

Loki slid the white box under the chair as his client sat down. The bells rang. 

 

Thor was sitting on the couch when Loki came into the apartment. Loki tried to make a beeline for his room, rightly assuming that Thor was about to say something. “Loki,” he said. Loki stopped where he stood, swearing under his breath. His eyes rolled towards the ceiling as he clenched his teeth. 

“Yes?” 

Thor leaned his arm over the back of the couch. “I talked to Tony today.” Loki blinked, overwhelmed by several cutting remarks at once. “Did you keep his phone?” 

“It’s at the shop,” Loki said, omitting that it was in the trash bin at the shop. Close enough. 

“Keep it,” Thor said. “He gave it to you to apologize.” 

“I don’t need his handouts,” Loki said, walking over to their kitchenette. He pulled open the freezer and took out a plastic bag with frozen pigskin inside. Thor got up from the couch. 

“Loki, not everybody’s going to get it. Why must you stay angry at Tony when he’s trying to apologize?” Thor blocked his exit from the kitchenette, standing between the counter and freezer. “He has made a valiant effort to apologize.” 

“I don’t have to accept it,” Loki said. He threw the freezer door closed and then combed his fingers through his hair, snidely glancing down at the countertop. “Perhaps he could take a hint?” 

“Loki,” Thor said with exasperation. “You may actually like Tony if you give him a chance.” 

Loki grabbed the plastic bag and shouldered his way past Thor. His brother made no effort to stop him, but followed with a disapproving stare, his arms tightly crossed. “I already know what he truly feels,” Loki said. “I don’t want to.” 

“Fine,” Thor said. “But he’s coming over tonight to watch the game with me, so don’t antagonize him.” 

“When have I ever antagonized anyone?” Loki asked. Thor sighed loudly as Loki rolled his eyes, thinking that there was no way that Tony had come to see a game. “When will he arrive?” 

“At seven,” Thor said. 

Loki’s head whipped around to check the clock. “It’s six fifty-five!” Thor shrugged as Loki stared at him. “Whatever. I’ll be in my room, keep him out.” 

“Alright,” Thor said. He knew that was a lost cause, but he was sure that Loki did too. It wasn’t that he was trying to set Loki up for anything. He just hadn’t said no when Tony asked if he could come over. 

Loki had set up his table quickly. It was impossible not to hear Tony in his room. His voice covered the whole apartment. “What, did I scare him off?” Loki heard about ten minutes in. He didn’t look up from the skin he was practicing on. Instead he tuned in to the sound of the machine buzzing away. After a while it was all that he heard. It had always been reassuring that way. 

If it was possible to forget that Tony was there, he had. Until he heard the text tone he’d assigned to Tony go off. This time he’d had enough. Loki grabbed his phone, glowering at the screen. 

**Doctor Dickhead** Come on, I’m sorry. Come play? 

Loki deleted it. He hunched over his work, determined to lose himself. 

**Doctor Dickhead** I’m starting to think you don’t like me. :( 

**Doctor Dickhead** Why are you still using that crap phone? 

Loki was grateful when Tony gave up after the third. He could hear them talking through the door. Tony’s voice gave nothing away. He seemed to be wholly absorbed in the game, though Loki could easily imagine him taking surreptitious glances towards Loki’s door. 

A few minutes went by when Loki got an idea. A deviant smirk crept up onto his face. His fingers couldn’t tap to google fast enough. 

He found the biggest, stupidest dick pick the internet had to offer and pasted it into the message. Then he tiptoed to his door and cracked it, ever so slightly. Tony was sitting on the couch, half of his face in Loki’s view. Thor’s back was to him. Loki hit send. 

There was a cute little beeping sound. Tony’s hand flew to his phone. Loki felt his smile tugging at his lips in anticipation. Tony glanced down at the screen and then, in glorious slow motion, Loki watched as Tony’s eyebrows flew up and he convulsed into a coughing fit. “Are you alright?” Thor asked. Tony wiped away a tear from his eye. 

“Yeah,” he wheezed. “Must’ve gone down the wrong pipe.” He grabbed the glass next to him and downed it. Just before his gaze turned towards Loki’s door, Loki clicked it shut. 

Loki had a muffled laughing fit. He heard his phone go off and ignored it for a minute, sitting back down with a satisfied sigh. 

**Doctor Dickhead** Not cool. 

_Oh certainly not, by the look of it._ Loki texted back. 

**Doctor Dickhead** So you do talk dirty. 

Loki leaned back in his chair, dropping his arms down behind him. He hated Tony a little less now, but that had nothing to do with Tony. He’d just been able to vent out some of his discomfort. The phone chimed again, but Loki went back to ignoring it. 

He heard Thor cheering and assumed something had happened. There was another outburst, and then his phone went off. Loki looked to see that he’d gotten a picture from Steve. 

**Steve Rogers** Spoiler alert. 

It was just the beginning of the painting, some base colors, but Loki loved it already. 

_I like spoilers_ , he sent back. 

**Steve Rogers** good

Loki was still looking at his phone when he heard a knock at the door. He walked over, assuming that it was Thor chiding him, and thought more about Steve than anything when he tugged it open. “So you do exist,” Tony said. Loki started closing the door, but Tony stuck his foot in. “Just let me say my bit.” 

Loki collapsed against his arm that was bracing the door. He looked over Tony’s shoulder for Thor, but he was nowhere to be seen. With an aggressive jerk he popped the door back. “Fine,” Loki said. 

Tony peered under his arm to the work desk Loki had set up. One lamp shone overhead as a neat array of inks sat beside what he was working on. “Can I see?” 

“I thought you were about to say your bit,” Loki said. 

“Yeah,” Tony said. “Slight change of plans. Let me see.” Loki didn’t budge. “Thor’s right, you _are_ difficult,” Tony said. He grinned. “Or maybe you want to prove him wrong?” He ducked under Loki’s arm. 

“I didn’t invite you in,” Loki said. 

“Should I leave?” Tony asked, taking a seat in his chair. “This is beautiful.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Loki said. 

“I’m still trying,” Tony said. He moved when Loki came over and possessively took the chair back. “Seriously, get rid of that thing,” Tony said, pointing to Loki’s phone. 

When Loki didn’t say anything Tony texted him. Loki sat at the desk, blatantly ignoring it. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to do anything, Tony grabbed it. He sighed when he saw his misnomer. Loki flinched as Tony held the phone in front of him. 

**Doctor Dickhead** I’m sorry. 

Loki grabbed the phone back. They heard a clatter from the kitchen as Thor dropped something in the sink. Tony leaned his shoulder against Loki’s wall. “How can I make it up to you?” 

“You don’t have to,” Loki said. He wouldn’t look at Tony now that he was on the defensive. Instead he rearranged ink bottles. 

“So then you’ll talk to me?” Tony asked. 

Loki wondered if Tony was the sort of person that wanted things they couldn’t have. Maybe Tony was after the chase. He took a hair tie from his desk. He held it between his teeth as he pulled his hair back into a ponytail before grabbing it and looping it into place. “Sure.” 

Tony floundered for a moment. “Cool, okay. Don’t ignore my texts anymore, okay? My ego can’t take anymore of that.” A skeptical huff came from Loki. “Really,” Tony said. “Alright, so where did we leave off?” 

Loki let Tony figure out the answer to that question. For the first ten minutes, Tony carried the conversation entirely by himself. Then, slowly, Loki found himself at ease again. This was the Tony that he’d actually enjoyed. 

Maybe it was alright. Tony had just made him laugh, and that was hard to do. Loki listened, though he kept finding his mind drifting back to Steve, before Tony would say something and pull him right back again. 

What was in this for Tony, exactly? Once Loki asked himself the question he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He weighed all of Tony’s responses against an imaginary scale, trying to figure it out. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Tony just really felt bad. Maybe he didn’t want his friend’s little brother to hate him. 

“Uh,” Tony said, when the conversation lulled. They were both comfortable, and he felt safe asking. “Why’d you send that pic?” 

Loki brushed his hand under his chin. “Just to fuck with you.” 

“You’re confusing,” Tony said. 

“Am I?” 

When Tony squirmed under his gaze long enough Loki gave in. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just thought it would be funny to see how you’d react.” 

“If I were at work I’d have to file a sexual harassment claim on you,” Tony said. It sounded thoughtful, and Loki realized that made him uncomfortable. “So…hmm. You don’t want me to send one back?” 

“For extortion purposes I do,” Loki said. He laced his fingers together. Tony didn’t seem bothered or upset. It was almost like he could watch the gears spinning. 

“It wouldn’t work,” Tony said. “It’s nothing people haven't seen before.” He sat on the edge of Loki’s desk. Loki began working on the tattoo again. Tony watched in mild interest. With careful curiosity he said, “are you sure you’re not into something?” The last word lingered with implications.

“Well, tattoos, obviously,” Loki said. He was being dense on purpose. 

“So if I get one you’d be into me?” Tony asked. Loki couldn’t tell if it was playful or serious. 

“No,” he answered. 

Tony dropped his head back and let out a short little sigh. “God, I bet my life would be so much easier if I were ace. I probably could’ve spared myself some angry phone calls.” 

_Easier_ , Loki thought sarcastically. The line work blurred as he lost focus. Usually, doing this calmed him down. He didn’t have to think about anything except what was in front of him. It was no match for Tony’s rambling. “So uh, what’s it like for you?” 

Loki’s head barely tilted up to look at Tony. He felt his eyes contracting into a glare of their own accord. “Is this conversation necessary?” 

“I’m just trying to figure it out so I don’t piss you off again,” Tony said. He smiled, like that was the correct response. He spoke to Loki like they’d known each other for years, like there were no boundaries to be crossed. “What’s sex like for you?” He asked casually, barely concealing his curiosity. Loki wasn’t sure what irritated him more. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Loki said. 

“Wait, seriously?” Tony asked, his face contorting into a comical smile. “ _Never?_ ” The needle stilled in Loki’s hand. He bit down hard on his cheek. “How’s that even possible?” 

The way it was said got to Loki. Despite outward appearances, he’d managed a clean record up until now, but he seriously considered Tony worth breaking it. That floppy, imbecilic question, so utterly ignorant of the inflamed core of the matter, made him seethe. He imagined flinging Tony out the nearby window vividly. 

No, his rent deposit was worth more than Tony’s blood. 

He lowered the needle and began again. “Come on, I’m not judging you,” Tony said. “Just tell me.” 

Loki was torn between turning his rage on Tony or himself. He couldn’t concentrate on the design anymore. The lines blurred into a scribbled mess. “Why won’t you tell me?” Tony asked, and for a split second, Loki pitied him. If Tony wasn’t grasping the concept by now, he’s clearly wasn't the genius he thought he was. 

“I have told you,” Loki said curtly. The pig skin was getting leathery. “You just won’t get it through your fucking head.” He tossed the skin into a bowl of warm water. Tony watched it bob at the surface for a moment before speaking. 

“You’ve at least kissed someone, right?” Tony’s tone stalled precariously between engulfing pity and absolute disbelief. The pity twisted inside Loki’s mind, making him cringe and writhe. 

Loki poked at the pig skin in the bowl. He flicked his fingers dry, specks of water hitting the surface. “Tell me,” he said. He kept his tone level, precise. His eyes stayed on the bowl. “Do you need to fuck Happy to know you don’t want to?” His anger seeped into his words, making them bitter and biting. 

“Aww come on, that’s not the same thing,” Tony said, sounding offended. It almost gave Loki satisfaction to see him recoil. “We’re not like that. And just because I wouldn’t doesn’t mean I wouldn’t with other men.” 

“Obviously,” Loki drawled. He dried the skin off, but he'd already decided that anything else he was going to ink tonight would be worthless. “You know who you don’t want to fuck though, don’t you?” There were equal parts condescension and arrogance. “That’s how it is for me. It just happens that it applies to everyone.” 

Tony scoffed, though he felt a burn up the back of his neck. “How would you know if you’ve never tried with _anyone_?” Tony didn’t realize that he’d balled his fist until there was a sharp pain in his palm. “Don’t be so hung up on yourself. Maybe if you tried you’d find parts you liked.” 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Loki asked. He didn’t know why it was so satisfying to turn on this man, this friend of his brother’s that he hardly even knew, but Tony seemed like he could take it and Loki wasn’t about to back off. He wanted to vent. “You’d just love to be the one that fucks me so great that I realize I’ve been wrong about myself my entire life. You’d really get off on that, wouldn’t you?” His words clicked and snared beautifully. He could see Tony’s confidence dim and fade out of his eyes. “How wonderful _you_ were, how compassionate _you_ were, that you could finally turn my poor little confused head around.” 

Tony’s mouth gaped like words had been stolen from it. 

“Get the fuck out,” Loki said. Each word cracked like a slap across the face. “I don't need you trying to fix me. I don’t want anything you’re offering. I’m fine with who I am and I’m not interested in anything else.” He dropped the pig skin into a plastic bag, expecting Tony to be gone by the time he finished twisting it closed. 

“Fucking hell,” Tony’s voice came on the back of a choked breath. Loki brushed his hands off, refusing to look at him. Loki was recoiling already, knowing that later he’d be crashing under every word that Tony said, but for now he was still in control. “Who the fuck are you?” 

Loki wasn't about to let Tony take hold of things. His head rose from his squared shoulders, narrowed eyes bright with unspoken vitriol. “Let’s quit wasting our time, shall we? I have no intention of fucking you, and you have no intention of going without. There’s nothing for me to offer you. Get out.” 

Tony’s palm found his forehead. He looked hurt, Loki thought, which was just as well. All the more incentive for him to keep away, and the sooner they could both move on. “Who talks like that?” Tony asked, and it was clear to Loki that it was rhetorical. For a moment Tony’s face was hidden as he rubbed at his cheeks, like he was trying to make the whole thing disappear. It wasn’t until his hand pulled back that Loki saw that he’d really upset him. His eyes were rimmed red and there was a nervous tremor in his lip that Loki wished he hadn’t noticed. “What do you think I am?” Tony asked. The question threw Loki for a loop. “I can’t believe you’d say something like that to a person.” It sounded more like a question than an accusation. 

Tony started for the door, so Loki had to strain to hear him say, “Fuck. Sorry for wasting your time.” Loki heard the front door of the apartment shut a few seconds later. He tensed. He heard the television noise pause and knew that Thor knew that something had happened. 

Faster than lightning, Loki bolted to his door and locked it. He pressed his back to the door, like that was going to do anything, and held his breath. 

“Loki?” Thor’s voice came from just outside the door. 

“I’m busy,” Loki said. He could hear Thor sigh through the thin slat of wood. For a moment it was still, but when Thor’s footsteps receded and the television turned back on, Loki’s knees gave out. His back slid down against the door. 

He didn’t know what caused the gaping hole in his chest, or the hot tear that rolled down his cheek, but he forcefully wiped it away with the blunt end of his palm. A bitter ache welled up. 

Those were the things that he’d have to say to Steve, if Steve cared to ask. It was pretty clear to Loki that he didn’t because they’re just friends, and as his palm dug against his cheekbone again, he was grateful. At least this way he didn’t have to entertain the doubts. He didn’t have to imagine what would maybe happen if things were different. He just had to accept what was and that he could do. It was the wanting he couldn’t handle. 

His mind drifted to the smile on Steve’s face post-tattoo, the pride welling in his chest as he saw Steve take delight in the fresh ink beneath his skin. He had put it there. He had created something that Steve loved. 

He knew he was supposed to have spent some of that time salivating over Steve’s sculpted muscle. While he could acknowledge that Steve was aesthetically appealing, no matter how many times Loki turned it over in his head, he couldn’t feel anything past that. It was just skin and muscle. 

Tony was just a more outspoken version of what Steve was thinking. What everyone was thinking. 

He rested with his arms on his knees, his back hunched against the door, playing with his ponytail. He stayed there until he calmed down. He felt exhausted. 

His spine popped as he stood back up. The plastic bag had to be thrown back into the freezer. He grabbed it and cracked his door open. Thor was lying down on the couch. Sometimes he fell asleep watching the television, so Loki decided that the coast was clear. 

Loki quickly walked over to the freezer. He tossed it in. Then he paused, staring at the gelato containers crammed into the door. “Loki.” He jumped at his name. 

Thor had been awake. “You said you wouldn’t antagonize Tony.” 

“He started it,” Loki said, dropping his hand from the freezer door. It inched backwards until it closed. 

Thor sat up. “You can turn someone down without, and I’m quoting him, emotionally eviscerating their soul.” 

Loki rolled his eyes. “I can’t turn someone down that isn’t asking me out in the first place,” he said, rational and pragmatic. “And I’m beginning to wonder what you told him,” Loki said, trying to put the blame on Thor. 

“Loki I told him what he did wrong and not to tell anyone,” Thor said. He said it so passionately that Loki actually felt guilty. He walked over to the couch and rested his forearms against the back, leaning down to stare at Thor on the other couch. “I know he’s annoying sometimes but he’s trying.” 

“I’d rather he didn’t try,” Loki said. He leaned up and walked around, lying down on the couch. His body sank into the cushions, too exhausted for his mind to protest. 

Thor had been looking at his phone. “What do you want me to tell him?” 

“I have his number,” Loki said. 

Thor typed something and sent it without commenting. Loki kicked his feet up over the armrest. He knew that he should feel annoyed with Thor, or that Thor was going to be annoyed with him, but he didn’t want to be alone just now. Not when these thoughts were crawling to the surface and overrunning the bandage he’d so carefully placed. 

The television flickered in the dim room, droning on at a low volume. Loki couldn’t tell if Thor was watching the television or just thinking about something. He set his fingers over his stomach. He flexed his bare toes as he closed his eyes. It was a long time before he heard Thor get up. He wasn’t sure if he’d drifted off to sleep or not. 

The light of the kitchenette flooded the room. Water poured into some container, and as cabinets opened and cups clinked, Loki rightly guessed that it was the kettle. After a while Thor made himself some tea. He grabbed the mug, steam curling up, and turned off the light. “Are you sleeping out here tonight?” Thor asked. 

Loki groaned as he sat up. “I didn’t think so,” Thor said. He softly laughed when Loki shot him a look. Then he left to go to bed. Loki sluggishly wandered back into his own bedroom. 

He turned off his desk light. He tossed his clothes onto the floor and crawled into bed. Rolling over onto his stomach, Loki slid his hand over the end of the pillow before holding onto the corner. He rested his chin on his forearm and stared at the wall. 

At first he thought about Steve, and how much he wanted to know him. Then he wondered if it was a good idea, if being friends with Steve would become too painful when he wanted something more. He set his forehead against his arm and breathed in against the pillow cover. 

He couldn’t decide whether he was angry with Tony or himself. He couldn’t be around Tony without being reactive. Tony had a knack for stepping on all of his sore spots. 

Loki rolled over onto his side and grabbed a second pillow. He held it to his chest. Exhaustion pulled at his body but he couldn’t fall asleep. His mind wouldn’t let him. Maybe if he rubbed one off he would pass out. He dug his chin into the pillow. At least Tony hadn’t been texting him. 

He sat up in the bed, his covers twisting as he reached over to the desk for his phone. There were no missed messages. Loki dropped it back onto the desk and fell into bed. He snatched back the pillow and crossed his arms with it over his chest. At least there was that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another lurking chapter for this ficlet. Interpretations/thoughts/hopes are much wanted. There's potential for another chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

“Do you want some?” Thor asked as Loki sluggishly pushed past him, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He only aggravated the dark circles there. Loki sized up what Thor was cooking as he fished a coffee mug from the cabinet. 

“You know I hate the smell of whey,” Loki said. 

Thor flipped a pancake onto the growing stack beside the stove. “You won’t even taste it in there with all the syrup you put on them.” Loki poured a cup of coffee. Thor glanced over his shoulder to see Loki take the creamer out of the fridge and dump it in. “It’s good for you.” 

Loki gulped in his coffee. “So is a marathon but you’ll never see me run one.” 

Thor mumbled a technical disagreement about that as Loki plodded towards the bathroom sipping his coffee. “Are you going to eat anything?” Thor called across the apartment. 

“I’m fine, Mother,” Loki yelled back, shutting the door. Thor heard the shower turn on a moment later. He made a plate for Loki anyway, dumping butter on top of the stack and leaving the syrup jug beside it. 

Loki was halfway showered when he heard Thor yell through the door. “I’m leaving, don’t forget to lock it this time.” 

“I didn’t forget!” Loki yelled back, cursing as shampoo got into his eye. 

“Liar,” Thor shouted unemotionally in reply. Loki grumbled to himself as he squirted a bottle of conditioner into his hand. He _had_ forgotten, but he wasn’t going to admit it. 

When he got out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam escaped out into the apartment. He saw that Thor had left him breakfast, and after a moment’s deliberation, gave in and sat down at the table in his towel. He poured half of the bottle of syrup on them before he dug in, glancing at the clock. He had just enough time left to eat and get dressed for work. 

 

Work passed uneventfully. He didn’t get any texts, from Steve or Tony. He forgot about the later, but he couldn’t stop looking at the wall Steve had claimed. He didn’t catch the tiny smirk that flickered across his mouth each time he did. 

He was going through the motions of closing up the shop when he noticed that Sigyn was lingering. Hovering, almost. 

Usually she bounded out the door to go to a date or party or event. She wasn’t a homebody. Loki stopped counting down the register to watch her clean her station repeatedly, going over the same places three and four times. “Sigyn.” 

“Yeah?”

“We’re done for the day. You can go home.” He figured that would prompt her to speak. She probably just wanted to ask for a day off. One of the clients had said something about a musical festival that Friday. Maybe that was it.

Sigyn smiled uncomfortably as she slid her bag strap over her shoulder. Ordinarily she left her dark hair down, but today it was up in victory rolls. Deep red had replaced pink highlights. He wondered if she was going somewhere after work, but it seemed more like they’d been pulled extra tight, as if reflecting the tension in the mind below. “Can I ask you something real quick?” 

He nodded his head, watching her closely. When Sigyn made eye contact it was off putting. It wasn’t like her to be unsure of herself, and the resolution burning through her eyes in response to that wasn’t reassuring. “I found that Stark phone in the trash,” Sigyn said all at once. 

Loki went back to counting down the register. “If you want to keep it,” he said, clipping a wad of bills together, “that’s fine.” 

“No,” Sigyn said, drawing the word out a note too long. “I just wanted to ask something about it, if that’s okay.” When Loki didn’t respond either way, she decided to go forward. “Look, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but is that guy still giving you shit? Because I’ll kick him out next time,” she said forcefully. 

“I’ve taken care of it,” Loki said gently. He closed the register. His fingers lingered on the keypad. 

“Oh. Okay,” Sigyn said quickly. “I just…just wanted to let you know that I would.” 

Loki smiled. Sigyn adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t leave that on you,” he said. 

It didn’t reassure Sigyn. If anything it made her feel like he was distancing himself from her. There was always a line between them because he was her boss, and he kept up his formalities, but she never felt less than. Sigyn’s stained lips twisted to the side. “He seemed like an ass,” she said. 

“He was,” Loki said. It seemed conversational, not emotionally charged. That gave Sigyn the confidence to try a little harder. 

“You can do way better,” Sigyn said. “He was horrible looking anyway.” 

“Was he?” Loki asked, sounding vaguely amused. Sigyn grinned as the tension left her. 

“Absolutely.” She paused for a second. “You know, if you’re interested, I know some people I could set you up with.” 

“That’s alright,” Loki said, and Sigyn felt like they were right back where they’d been at the start of the conversation. 

“Just think about it,” Sigyn said, taking a step towards the door. “I mean, if you feel it’s weird to have me hook you up with someone I get it, but it’s not like I’d set you up with one of my exes.” She let her hand rest on the door handle as Loki watched her. It was impossible to read him when he had that mask up and it drove her crazy. “I’ve had some fucking shit boyfriends and girlfriends. You…shouldn’t have to deal with that.” The bells jangled as she propped the door open. 

“Thank you,” Loki said, enigmatic as ever. 

“Just think about it,” Sigyn said and let herself out. 

 

Steve wasn’t close to finishing the painting when he invited Loki over. He just didn’t want to get too far on it before making sure that it was something that Loki loved. 

Rain pounded against the windowpanes as he let Loki into the studio. It was blustery and grey outside. Loki unwound a scarf from his neck, eyes lighting up as Steve gestured for him to follow. 

Steve held his breath as Loki stared at the canvas. It was hard to gauge his reaction, and from Steve’s angle, he mostly saw Loki’s rain-specked hair anyway. After a moment he heard Loki breathe a slow breath in. 

“It’s perfect.” 

“What? Oh, thank god. I mean, it’d be fine if it wasn’t, I just mean that I didn’t know what you thought for a second there,” Steve said, laughing it off. Loki pressed his scarf against his neck as he watched Steve. “Great. Okay, it’s not finished yet.” Steve stuck his thumbs into his belt loops and leaned towards the painting. “It’ll get there, though.” 

Loki grinned, unable to peel his eyes away from the painting. It was mostly abstract, but the colors were what drew Loki in. Something about them reminded him of a place he’d never been and the almost home-sickness was mesmerizing. 

Slowly Loki became aware of the silence. “How is your arm?” He asked, trying to amend it. 

Steve shrugged off his sweatshirt. “Great,” he said, letting Loki inspect it. “I’ve been showing it off to everyone.” 

“You heal remarkably fast,” Loki observed. 

Steve put his sweatshirt back on. “Yeah, I always have. No idea why.” He scratched at his blond hair, soothing an itch on his scalp. “I was a scrawny kid though, I don’t think you’d recognize me if you saw a picture.” 

Loki grinned to himself, casting his gaze away towards the painting again. “Really,” Steve insisted. He was just about to say something more when they heard a chime echo across the warehouse. “Someone’s at the door,” Steve said. He began walking before Loki had time to respond. “I’ll be right back,” he called out behind him. He took the stairs to the first floor. 

Alone, Loki took off his scarf and dried his hair with it. He breathed in the smell of the warehouse, heavy chemicals mixed with fresh rain. It felt safe. Loki draped his scarf over his shoulders and tucked his hands into his jacket pockets. The room was chilly, but the cold had never bothered him much. 

It was taking Steve a while to return, so Loki began to walk and study the other paintings. Some were commissioned portraits. It was funny, how Steve captured their alikeness while betraying some sort of attitude about the person. Whoever the captain in the portrait was, as grand as he looked, Steve clearly did not care for him. Loki wasn't sure how he knew, just that he did. 

He meandered along the cool concrete. There were paintings of parks and buildings, mostly in Brooklyn. One was just of an empty alley in oranges and yellows. Loki felt a cold wind brush past his face. He turned to see a window had been left cracked open. He walked over and shoved the heavy pane to the side, sealing up the half inch that had let in the wind. 

It was then that he heard a feminine voice animatedly talking, laughing, and giving Steve a hard time. Steve’s laugh joined hers as they reached the top of the stairs. Loki stared back out the window. A heavy water drop slid down past his face, taking several others with it. 

He heard Steve wander aloud where he was. Loki stepped out from behind the canvas. “The window was open,” he said. “I don’t see any damage, though.” 

Steve let out a heavy sigh. “I should’ve checked,” he said, walking right over. He bent down and ran his hand over the back of the canvas. “I left that open and now all that humidity’s gotten in.” Loki glanced over Steve’s shoulder to see a tall, brunette woman staring at him. Her cherry lips pulled back into a smile. 

“You must be the artist that did Steve’s tattoo,” she said. 

Steve stood up straight. “Oh, Peggy, this is Loki.” He stepped out of the way so that Loki could shake the hand she offered. “This is Peggy. She’s my manager.” 

“Among other things,” Peggy said. She winked at Loki as she released his hand. “I came to make sure that _someone_ is getting their work done, since _someone_ seems to have taken up a hobby project when he has three commissions due next week.” She poked Steve in the side. 

He winced, smiling but clearly anxious. “I didn’t take on a hobby project.” 

“Then what’s that over there?” Peggy asked, pointing to the painting for Loki. “I don’t remember commissioning that. You’re not taking commissions and not telling me, are you?” 

“No, no,” Steve said. 

“It’s a hobby project then,” Peggy said confidently. She stared at the painting triumphantly as she said it. Steve took the interlude to give Loki a brazen look and put his fingers mischievously up to his lips. “Artists,” Peggy said. “You chase twenty things at the same time.” Steve came back at her with something about managers while Loki noticed how close the two of them were standing. “What about you?” Peggy asked, turning the attention onto Loki. “Do you do anything outside of tattoos?” 

“Occasionally,” Loki said. 

“Occasionally,” Peggy repeated, making the word into a challenge. She raised her eyebrow. 

“Watch out, she’ll give you her sales pitch,” Steve said. He jumped away from her and back towards Loki. “She’s vicious about sales,” he muttered, just so that Loki could hear. 

“You can’t blame me,” Peggy said. “That’s business.” She opened her purse and took out an engraved metal tin, snapping it open. “If you want to make it more than occasional,” Peggy said. She gave Loki a business card. 

As he skimmed the words his phone went off. Loki dug it out of his jacket pocket. “Excuse me a moment,” he said. Walking to the far end of the studio, for once he was grateful that it was Thor. 

“Our father wants you to come to dinner on Sunday,” Thor said after a brief hello. Loki clenched his jaw. It popped as he opened his mouth to answer. 

“Why?” He asked suspiciously. 

Thor breathed heavily on the other line. “Things haven’t been going well with some of the business investments. I think he’s going to want to move some things into your name, maybe add a few shares.” He spoke low, conspiring almost, but Loki could almost feel him begging underneath not to make a big deal out of it. 

“No,” Loki said. “I want nothing to do with his business. He knows that. I can’t be held accountable for his business risks. I have my own to run.” 

Thor was quiet for a moment. “Loki,” he said carefully. “If you upset our father he will just buy the street your shop is on and demolish it.” With his free hand Loki clenched his sleeve into his palm, making his jacket lopsided. “He has too much power. Just appease him.” 

“If he would dare to lay a hand on my shop,” Loki growled, aware too late that his voice was rising, “I will sue him for every last currency he owns.” 

“And he would win because he has the best legal team in the world,” Thor said simplistically. “You can find a way out later. Just make him happy for now.” 

“I’ve spent my entire life doing that,” Loki said. “And look where I am now.” He glanced out the cloudy window, realizing in the same moment that where he was was actually okay. No, he loved this place. He loved everything about it and the job he had come from. It was just that he didn’t love his relationship with his father. 

“We’ll talk about it when we get home,” Thor said. “I just wanted to give you a warning for when he calls.” 

“My answer isn’t changing,” Loki said. He looked back over to where Steve and Peggy were standing, his phone pressed against his ear. They were talking between themselves, smiling. Completely outside of the situation. Peggy brushed something off of Steve’s shoulder. “Can’t you do something?”

“Loki, just entertain him for a while and see if it changes. You know that I’m in no position to challenge our father.” 

“Later then,” Loki said. If he kept this conversation up, there was the risk that he would lose his temper and Steve would see. He heard Thor say goodbye and the line go dead. Peggy and Steve laughed. The sound echoed. 

“I’m afraid I have to leave,” Loki said as he approached them. “Thank you for having me.” 

“Peggy and I were just about to ask you to come to dinner with us,” Steve said. Loki’s stomach churned with disappointment.

“I’m sorry. It’s an urgent call,” Loki said. 

Steve’s face was all sympathy. He reached out and touched Loki’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m throwing a party on Friday night. Would you come? Everyone wants to meet the guy that did my tattoo and I want you to come.” 

Loki couldn’t find it in himself to say no. His grip on his phone tightened as he tried willing himself to say no. It was a bad idea. “Steve’s parties are always fun, I promise,” Peggy said. “They’re not stiff, like everyone standing around or something. You’ll have fun.” 

“I’ll see you on Friday then,” Loki said. The words sounded smooth coming from his mouth. He felt lighter and guilty at the same time. 

“Great,” Steve said. His whole face lit up. “I’ll text you, okay?” 

“Okay,” Loki agreed. 

When Loki got back into his car he turned the wiper blades on. He watched them slide back and forth across the windshield for a while, knocking waves of water back and forth. Now he had to find somewhere to kill time. The last thing he wanted to do was argue about his father. He didn’t want to go home until he could be sure that Thor was asleep. 

After some deliberation, Loki decided to go to one of the twenty-four hour cafes he frequented. He picked the one close to a bookshop and bought something he was only mildly interested in reading to kill the time. Loki ordered a cup of coffee and grabbed a seat beside the window just as another heavy downpour started. 

It was only when Loki heard a familiar laugh that he looked up. Talking on his phone and sitting three tables away was Tony Stark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's at least one more chapter on the way. Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts and interpretations.


	4. Chapter 4

“Look, I’m not saying that we should even consider them a main competitor—listen, listen that’s fine—why would you even? No. Their design team’s a joke.” 

Loki drew a slow breath in through his nose. Tony had been rambling on for twenty minutes now, and as far as Loki could tell, his presence had gone unnoticed. The initial shock had worn off and left him with a vague sense of anxiety that was slowly morphing into sadistic mockery. 

Maybe he would yield to his father’s whims, just to have the chance at manipulating his father into taking a shot at Stark Industries. From what little he’d gleaned listening, he had enough to be a nuisance. 

He might’ve considered it seriously if he hadn’t thought that it would put him in debt to his father. He would do anything to avoid that fate. 

Loki drew the book up towards his face and sunk down into the chair. Tony’s back was to him, but he was saying goodbye to whoever was on the phone. 

Tony set his phone on the table. For a while he just sat there. Loki glared at the back of his head, incapable of discerning what Tony was doing. His disdain developed deeper the harder he looked. Why, exactly, did Tony have to show up now? What right did he have to be here? 

Maybe Tony felt someone glaring daggers into the back of his head because he turned around cautiously. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw Loki seething behind the book, his narrow eyes peering out just above the cover. There was a split second where Loki could see Tony recognize him, and then Tony turned right back around. Tony picked up his phone and checked the time. 

It occurred to Loki that Tony must be meeting someone, and they were late. Loki chastised his heart as it thudded anxiously against his chest. Tony was checking the time again. His posture became stiff and uncomfortable. 

Slowly, Loki lowered his book and read a few lines. He dug his heel down against the chair in front of him. He glanced up again. 

Tony’s back was still to him, but now he was texting. Loki watched until Tony tucked his phone in his pocket and made to stand up. Then he dropped his gaze to the page, watching from the corner of his eye. Tony was putting his jacket on when a man walked over to the table. “I’m here,” he said, taking a seat at the table. He looked familiar, but Loki wasn’t sure if it was because he’d seen him at the party or in a picture in Steve’s studio. “Why are you putting your coat on like you’re about to leave? You think you’ve never been late? You’re not bailing on me and don’t give me those puppy eyes.” It clicked. Loki had seen him in a photo. Steve had called him what? James? Rhodey? “Yeah, I got your text, doesn’t count. I’m already here.” 

Loki was staring at them when Tony glanced back over his shoulder. Tony was clearly uncomfortable, but his friend didn’t know any different. He started talking as Loki stared at the back of Tony’s head again. 

Loki set his book on the table. He smoothed his fingers across the top of the cover. After a moment’s deliberation, Loki stood up. He grabbed his book and his coffee. Keeping his vision set forward, he walked straight past Tony’s table and out the door. 

The cold, wet wind blew against his jacket as he held the book over his head to spare him from the drizzle. He felt relieved when his car locked around him. He let himself sink into the seat for a second before setting his coffee in the cup holder and tossing the book into the passenger seat. 

Loki had just started the ignition when his phone rang. 

Cursing, he dug it out to read his father’s name. “Hello,” he said curtly, dread sinking into him as he turned the car off. 

His father didn’t start with a greeting. He went right off about how he would be moving some stocks around, and titles, and accounts, all without pause. Loki leaned his elbow against the window, glaring at the roof. Apparently his father didn’t have the patience to wait until Sunday dinner to talk him into it.

When Odin finished, Loki said dryly, “are you asking me to assist you in tax evasion?” 

There was a heavy pause. A humorless smile pulled at Loki’s mouth. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was something else that he’d rather not know about. 

Odin answered with a question. “Why do you insist on wasting your life making that garbage? There is room in the company for you to make real money, if you will cease with your pride. Your talent is wasted in that cesspool. You are far too smart to be with those lowlifes.” 

“As always, it was a pleasure to chat with you,” Loki said, grabbing ahold of the keys again. 

“Loki.” He started the ignition. “Don’t make your mother worry about you. You can keep the stocks I move into your name and finally put some money aside.” 

He felt his pulse quicken at the mention of his mother. That would not be lorded over him. “No, I am rather fond of my moral depravity and destitution,” Loki said. “Goodbye.” 

There was no answer. Only his phone returning to its home screen. 

 

Thor was asleep when Loki came home. The apartment was dark, and Loki moved quietly into the kitchen. He used the microwave to make a cup of tea, opening it before the timer sounded, and settled at the table. 

He cupped his fingers around the hot teacup. Odin’s behavior was nothing new, but it always aggravated him and opened old wounds. It would be a while before he was calm enough to go to bed. The distant rumble of Thor’s snoring was all that there was to keep him company. 

Taking out his phone, he sent Steve a text. _Spoilers?_

He didn’t expect an immediate response. As he brought his tea to his lips, the phone buzzed. Three texts came in before he’d set the cup down. 

_Nothing new yet, I narrowly avoided Peggy’s murder attempt._  
 _I saw my life flash before my eyes._  
 _I’m buying party supplies tomorrow, any requests?_

Loki’s thumb hovered over his phone. When he finally texted back, Steve answered right away. Loki stayed there, texting back and forth, until he’d agreed to come early and help set up on Friday _and_ learned all of Steve’s opinions on music. 

He slumped into bed and fell asleep with his phone in hand’s reach. 

 

Thor was gone when he woke up, and gone when he came home from the shop. Loki had bought Chinese food on his way back. It was five times what he could eat alone. He had given up on fending Thor off his food long ago. The emperor’s chicken was for him. 

As if by some extrasensory ability, Thor showed up the moment Loki cracked open the first container. “It was a wise decision bringing that home,” Thor said as he hung up his coat. “You did not take my advice yesterday.” 

“Who says that any of this is for you?” Loki asked, dropping a heaping pile of noodles onto his plate. 

Thor sat down, sliding the chicken towards himself. “You made my life difficult today,” Thor said. It sounded conversational, though his exhaustion was clear enough. He dug a fork into the container. He knew Loki wouldn’t touch the chicken even if it was left in the fridge for a week. “And yours.” 

“That’s a feat,” Loki muttered, stuffing his mouth with noodles. 

“Well,” Thor said. “It seems that our father has backed off for now.” He got up and grabbed a beer out of the fridge before sitting back down. Loki didn’t press for details. “I think you scared him off.” 

Loki froze, pointing his gaze directly at Thor. “That’s impossible.” 

Thor shrugged. “It is,” he agreed. They ate in silence for a minute, both cynically mulling that over. “I heard that you’re going to Steve’s party.” 

Loki tilted his head to the side a bit as he ate a noodle. “I am.” 

Though Thor had taken off his suit jacket, he was still dressed in formal business attire. His long hair had been pulled back into an immaculate ponytail, not unlike Loki’s, but it did not suit him. The tiny smile on his face when Loki answered was the only thing that felt familiar and natural. “Good.” 

Thor didn’t make eye contact after that, which immediately provoked Loki’s suspicion. “What?” Loki demanded, digging his chopsticks down into the container and abandoning his plate completely. 

“Tony’s going to be there,” Thor said. He didn’t look up from his food. He waited for a reaction to the statement. Loki’s eyebrow twitched irritably. 

“I saw him at the Midnight Owl,” Loki said, recalling the cafe. 

Thor glanced up. “Did he say anything?” 

“No,” Loki said. “And I don’t think he will.” Saying the words, he wasn’t sure if he said them with conviction or wishful thinking. “We made eye contact but that was it.” 

“We’ve spoken,” Thor said. “He knows that I will smash his face if he upsets you.” The promise made the corner of Loki’s mouth curl up in a smile that he quickly hid with a mouthful of noodles. “His mouth gets him into trouble,” Thor said, his mind back in their college years. 

“Evidently,” Loki said. He downed half of a fizzy lemon drink, staring listlessly around their apartment. “You forgot to run the dishwasher this morning.” 

Thor just tore into an egg roll. “And you forgot to empty it.” 

Loki rolled his eyes halfheartedly. They finished eating in comfortable silence, and when Thor went to watch television on the couch, Loki joined him. Halfway through a reality show, Loki thought of something. “What did you say to Tony, exactly?” 

“…you don’t want to know.”

 

Steve’s face lit up the moment the door opened. “Hey! Come on in, I was just about to set up the table,” Steve said, guiding Loki in with his hand on Loki’s shoulder. There was a folded pingpong table in the middle of the floor. 

“I hope you don’t have any intention of letting Thor play,” Loki said, grabbing one half as Steve got the other. A deviant grin sparked on Steve’s face. 

“Yeah?” He asked as the table came open. “Did he play? I can’t imagine him having time to do a sport outside of football.” 

Loki stared reproachfully back at him, but the humor in his smirk was clear. “Beer pong,” Loki said, gesturing his head towards the red stack of cups on the couch. “He’ll drink you under the table.” 

Steve broke into a smile as he looked over. “Yeah. I know.” He picked up the plastic cups and set them on the edge of the table. “I’m the only one that’s come close to beating him, and even then, it’s hard.” Suddenly Steve’s expression became thoughtful, and Loki found that he didn’t mind being looked at with that face at all. “You’re not going to tell me you have amazing genetics and it’s some sort of family trait, are you?” 

“No,” Loki said, rubbing his nose. “My alcohol tolerance doesn't come anywhere near Thor’s.” Even if it did, there would be nothing genetic about it, but Loki wasn't about to get into that. 

Steve let out a sigh of relief. Then he laughed. “No one’s does,” he said. He began walking towards the kitchen, and Loki followed him naturally, as if he’d been in the apartment a hundred times before. The kitchen table was loaded with chip bags and soda bottles. Steve took out a set of stacking bowls from his cabinet. “I don’t know why I bother,” he said, dumping a bag inside. Loki grabbed a bowl and started doing the same. “They’re empty in ten seconds anyway.” 

“You could put them in a trough,” Loki suggested. 

Steve laughed. The sound contented Loki more than he wanted to admit. “Next time,” Steve promised. 

They got everything ready. With five minutes to go before people would start arriving, Loki was sitting on the couch with Steve perched on the armrest beside him. Loki turned the beer Steve had given him over in his hands, picking at the label. 

“If Peggy gives you a hard time about working for her, just tell her that you only give agents five percent. That’ll keep her back.” Steve offered the advice in a quiet lull, with a simple grin on his face. It was a grin that Loki had gotten all too used to. 

He leaned back against the couch so he could smirk up at Steve. “Who says I won’t make millions? Five percent of that may appeal to her.” 

“Stay humble,” Steve said, amused. 

“What would be the fun in that?” Loki shot back, taking a swig of his beer. 

“True,” Steve agreed. His reply was cut off by a rapid knock at the door. He jumped up, took a few steps to the door, and swung it open to find Sam and Natasha. They were bickering about something again.

“Hello Steve,” Sam said pointedly. “It’s so nice of you to have us over. I brought something, because unlike Natasha, I actually have manners.” He held up a six-pack as Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“He used my debit card to get that,” she said. 

“Because you still owe me,” Sam told her. Steve glanced back over his shoulder with a reassuring grin for Loki’s sake. They weren’t really arguing, and he wanted to be sure that Loki was in on that.

“Are you going to come inside or what?” Steve prodded them, stepping out of the way. 

“Look who has bad manners now,” Natasha said, sauntering past Sam. “Thanks, Steve.” 

“I’m going to go put these in the fridge,” Sam said with a stubbornly resigned look on his face. Natasha perked up when she spotted Loki sitting on the couch. 

“So the famous Loki finally makes an appearance,” she said, sitting down beside him. “Steve’s been bragging on you for weeks.” Steve scoffed, looking away. “I thought I was going to lose my hearing,” Natasha said conspiratorially, leaning in towards Loki. 

Loki’s eyebrows raised in intrigue. “Is that so, Steve?” 

“Natasha, quit stirring the pot,” Steve chided her. His attention was snagged by someone at the door again. 

Unfazed, Natasha set right back on quizzing Loki. “So. What else do you do?” Despite the nonchalance in her voice, Loki had the distinct impression that nothing got past her. 

He allowed for a pause. Natasha watched closely as he relaxed into the couch, pretending to consider it. “Gambling. Some organized crime when I feel like it.” Natasha snorted out a short laugh. 

“I work in law enforcement, don’t tell me that,” she said. 

“Tell you what?” He said slyly. 

The room had been getting louder and louder as more people arrived. Someone had started the music, and Loki didn’t have to look to know that the booming laugh was his brother’s. After a while, Natasha and Loki made their way over to watch the beer pong game that was in progress. 

Clint was losing spectacularly to Phil, but Loki had the sense that Phil was cheating. He wasn’t sure how or why, just that he was. Loki was sure of it. 

“Clint always loses,” Steve said, coming to stand next to him. 

“Something gives me the impression that Phil always wins,” Loki said. 

Steve grinned. “Don’t play him in poker.” 

As the party wore on, Loki got used to people marveling over him once Steve brought up his tattoo. Loki was enjoying himself. He’d misjudged Thor’s friends. They weren’t like their friends back home. This group seemed to mesh, despite how different they all were, and they were nothing but friendly. In another scenario, reluctantly heroic might have even been appropriate. 

Loki had seen Tony several times, but they respected the invisible line between them. Past one curt stare, Tony acted like he couldn’t see Loki. 

He had spent most of the night around Steve. “Come help me,” Steve said, taking a step towards the kitchen. Loki followed. He continued their conversation as Steve handed him a bottle of soda. Loki mixed it into a punch bowl without thinking about anything in particular. He felt utterly content. He didn’t know if it was the haze of alcohol in his mind, or the way Steve had taken him under his wing to make sure that he felt included, or the quiet realization that since moving he hadn’t transitioned to much of a life outside of his shop. 

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said, picking up the punch bowl. A bit sloshed over the side as he walked towards the door without noticing. Loki grabbed a roll of paper towels. Ducking down to the floor, he amended the mess. 

He heard another set of footsteps enter the kitchen and assumed that it was Steve. When he stood up, he heard one of the kitchen chairs smack into the table as the person responsible spooked. When he turned to look, a drunk Tony was frozen in place, staring startled at him. 

Loki stood with his back straight up, coldly assessing the flush faced man across from him. Tony staggered as he adjusted his grip on the kitchen chair. Tony blinked once, the conflicted depths of his eyes depicting volumes, before trying to right himself. He took a deep breath. 

Loki hadn’t moved when Steve walked back in. He felt himself drop the tension in his muscles at once. He tossed the wadded paper towels into the trashcan as casually as possible. “Nice shot,” Steve said. He started opening a bag of chips. 

Midway, Steve paused. He looked up at Tony without any sense of surprise or interest, as if this were routine. “Why don’t you sit down, Tony?” Steve suggested. He dumped the chips in the bowl and pushed it in front of Tony. “You should eat something.” 

“I’m fine,” Tony said. Loki took a step back towards the cabinets and turned away. He pretended to be looking for something. 

“Come on, Tony.” Steve said. The table screeched as it slid forward a couple inches. “Just sit for a couple of minutes. You don’t want this to be like New Year’s Eve.” 

“That was different,” Tony said. It was quiet for a few moments, like a look was being exchanged. Loki took a cup down from the cabinet and set it on the counter. He had just begun to reach up again when Tony spoke. “No.” 

“Tony—” The table screeched again. “Tony.” The chair rattled. “Hey Loki, would you get him a water—” Steve’s voice asked, switching into something polite, almost gentle. Loki looked back over his shoulder to see Steve with his arms out, as if he was about to protect Tony or catch him. 

Loki took the cup to the sink and filled it to terse silence. He set it on the table and pushed it callously towards Tony. “Thanks,” Steve said. 

The brows on Tony’s deeply flushed face furrowed. “Don’t bother Steve,” Tony said pedantically. “He’s asexual.” 

Loki immediately looked at Steve. He couldn’t control the reaction. He had to see Steve’s face. He found nothing but a flicker of confusion that gave way to annoyance. Tony stumbled towards the door. They saw Fury just past the entry to the kitchen. “Hey Nick,” Steve called out. 

Nick’s head snapped towards them, and catching sight of Tony, he swung into action. “I’m on it,” he said. He caught Tony, and as he guided him away with an arm around his shoulders, Steve glanced back at Loki. 

“What did he say?” Steve asked, cautiously concerned. 

Loki had crossed his arms against his chest. “I’m not attracted to other people,” Loki said. His voice was sharp and begrudging. 

“Oh,” Steve said. There was little to be gleaned from his reaction. He didn’t offer any commentary, or really seem to process it. “Tony’s a handful sometimes,” Steve said. “Our dads grew up together, so I’ve known him forever, but I get fed up with him more than I’d like to admit.” Steve huffed out an annoyed breath and then walked over to the fridge. “You want one?” 

“Sure,” Loki said, taking the drink that was offered to him. The cold sank into his fingertips. 

“He got out of control in high school and never really came back from it,” Steve said. He took a seat at the table. Loki got the sense that Steve was waiting for him to do the same. “We can’t get him to talk about it.” 

Loki pulled the chair out slowly before sitting. “I don’t know what it’s going to take to wake him up,” Steve said. “If he’s not drinking, he’s blowing money on things, or trying to get laid. He’s never still. He won’t let himself feel anything.” 

“Tony and I are not friends,” Loki said. It was the first time that Steve had heard his voice sound clipped, but he didn’t pay it much thought. As far as he knew, Tony and Loki didn’t know each other. 

“Yeah, sorry you have to meet him like this,” Steve said. “He can be really generous when he wants to be. He’s not always like this.” Steve scratched his nails against his scalp. “But not tonight.” 

Loki listened to Steve vent and found himself drinking the beer rather quickly. He didn’t know what reaction he’d been hoping for from Steve, but his lack of one was disappointing. Loki wasn’t sure why that was, or what he wanted. He got up and grabbed another beer as Steve continued to vent. 

His second beer was already finished when Peggy walked in, eyes bright. “So this is where my two favorite artists are hiding,” she said. She kissed Steve on the forehead, resting her hand on his chair as she stared at Loki. “Have you thought about it?” 

“Not particularly,” Loki said. 

“I’ll wait,” Peggy said. Her words were bright and warm. Loki could tell that she liked him, and wondered if she’d feel the same way if she knew the jealousy she stirred in him. “Steve, everyone’s leaving. Rhodey’s going to drive Tony home. Loki, do you need a ride?” 

“Is Thor still here?” He asked without enthusiasm. Peggy had to think about it for a minute. 

“I think he’s getting a ride from someone—” She twisted her lips to the side. “Hold on, I’ll go find out.” She disappeared for a moment. Steve stood up stiffly from the table. Loki was about to do the same when she returned. She smiled awkwardly. “He said you were driving him home.” 

“You two can stay here,” Steve said. 

“I can drive them home,” Peggy offered. Thor appeared in the doorway just as she said it. “You’re coming with me,” she said, breaking into a grin. 

She wouldn’t let Thor thank her. “Watch out,” she told Loki. “I might convince you to work for me on the ride home.” 

“That’s doubtful,” Loki said. She grinned like it was an accepted challenge. 

The apartment was quiet and empty as they walked to the door, thanking Steve. Loki was grateful that Thor carried most of the conversation with Peggy, though she continually tried to invite him back in. It felt like forever before he was guiding Thor up their apartment stairs. 

He didn’t say anything. He just went to his room and shut the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts, interpretations, and hopes. There is one chapter left, and I expect the tone to be a bit different.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, and I hope it resonates right. My muse was so, so adamant that I get this up and finished already, but wow did it take a long time. Enjoy!

Loki awoke to the sun pouring in through the venetian blinds. He shielded his face with his arm. It looked to be late morning, if not early afternoon. 

He pulled himself from the bed and sluggishly trudged out of his room. He went past Thor’s open bedroom door and glanced inside. Thor was gone. He found a cold pot of coffee in the kitchen. Pouring himself a cup, he stuck it in the microwave and dug a bag of mini donuts out of the bread drawer. 

For a while he sat at the table with his feet up on the chair across from him, eating chocolate donuts with one hand and holding his coffee in the other. 

He had fallen asleep quickly the night before, but the alcohol had woken him abruptly at three in the morning. Unable to return to sleep immediately, he had been left to his thoughts. He had not slept off the melancholy it had put him in. 

He traced a finger across one of the arcing lines along his arm, leaving a smudge of chocolate behind like a dab of paint. He had traced them so often over the years that it had become automatic. 

Last night, he’d remembered a different night, where Thor had come to confide in him. The memory wouldn’t let him go. 

It was in their teens. Their mother had finally put them in separate bedrooms, insisting that it was because she was tired of listening to the bickering. Privately, Loki thought it was because she understood that he needed more time to himself than Thor. Not that it had deterred Thor from visiting, but it had given him the space he needed to be. Loki was still grateful for it. 

That night, like many times before, Thor knocked on his door a split second before opening it anyway. Loki opened his mouth, ready to tell him off for barging in, when the look on Thor’s face stopped him. “What?” He asked, sounding mildly putout as he set his magazine beside him on the bed. Thor closed the door with a gentle click. Loki began mentally guessing what could be so serious as Thor sat down on the corner of the bed. 

“What?” Loki prodded him, a little more gently. It wasn’t like Thor to hesitate. His brother fidgeted with the collar of his pajamas, staring down at the floor. 

Thor’s sturdy voice came at a practiced suppressed volume, still too loud to be a whisper. “Remember how I didn’t tell mother and father about your tattoo?” 

Loki jumped anxiously and tucked his feet under him immediately. “You spilled it,” he hissed. 

“No,” Thor said, cutting him off before he could really work himself up. Subconsciously he glanced at the spot on Loki’s ribs that held the scripted ink. Loki was covering it with his arms like a shield. “I want you to keep a secret for me too.” 

“Oh,” Loki said, the tension dropping out of him instantly. He leaned back against his headboard. “And what would that be?” 

Thor saw the tiny, deviant smirk on his face and leveled him with an intent stare. “You owe me,” he reminded Loki. 

Thor waited. Loki shrugged. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it won’t bring as much ire to mother and father as mine, so there’s no point in worrying. You don’t tell mine, I don’t tell yours.” They held eye contact, equally reassured of the other’s loyalty. 

“I had sex with Sif.” The words clunked out of his mouth without betraying his feelings on the matter. He looked anxiously to Loki, and for a split second, Loki almost felt like his approval was being sought. 

He sucked in a sharp breath. He understood the group dynamics just as well as Thor, if not better. “You cannot let Hogun find out.” 

“I know,” Thor said immediately. “It wasn’t planned, it just sort of happened. You know?” 

Loki blinked quickly. He didn’t, but he thought he would, eventually. “She’s going to homecoming with Hogun,” he said. 

“I know,” Thor said. “We agreed not to tell anyone.” 

“So you told me?” 

Thor looked at him plainly, as if the answer were obvious. “Of course I told you.” He looked down at his hands instead. “She wanted to, and I wanted to, and we knew the first time wouldn’t be good so we decided to get it over with. The second time was better.” 

“Twice?” Loki said, pressing one hand along the side of his face. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be hearing this, but he also knew he should be. 

“More than that,” Thor said, smiling awkwardly. “Just last week, we haven’t done anything this week.” He was dying to tell someone. He couldn’t process it without talking about it. 

Loki listened as he spoke, going into much more detail than Loki wanted, and grew slowly quieter. Thor guessed at Sif’s reasoning, saying she wanted to get it over with before Hogun, and that she’d always liked him, and then mused if that was really the truth or not. Maybe it was because they’d liked each other even as kids. Loki let Thor talk himself out. For once, he didn’t know what to tell Thor to do. 

When Thor left that night, Loki was left with a strange sense of disconnect that he couldn’t place. He put it aside. Loki kept quiet, as did Thor. 

The story never left them, and their parents still didn’t know about the existence of Loki’s first tattoo. For a long time Loki thought his time would come and he would confide in Thor, but as the years wore on and he realized he wouldn’t be, he wondered if Thor resented him for keeping an assumed secret. It was years before Loki came out to him. He still wondered if all that time Thor had thought that he didn’t want to confide in him, that he didn’t want to share or be close. 

Loki took a slow sip of his coffee. That had been years ago. Why did he have to remember it now? He ate another chocolate donut. A few more, and the new bag would be empty. 

He started tracing his lines again. Maybe he should have done things differently with Tony, or other people, so he could at least pretend that he felt normal. He tapped his finger where the line met his wrist. A small celestial coordinate was written above it. Alone, he was fine with himself. It was fitting with other people that didn’t work. 

The first wave of the sugar crash was starting to come in. Yawning, he decided to shower after he’d finished the last of his coffee. 

When he got out of the shower, he saw that he had missed two calls from his father. 

 

Odin started out by asking him how he was. That in and of itself was not a good sign. Odin had become impatient and direct in his old age. Loki dragged a comb through his wet hair. He wished that he had not called back, but he knew better. 

Loki gave him vague, uninteresting answers. Odin told him about his garden, and his golf tournaments on the weekends. For a moment, Loki felt like he was talking to the father he’d so dearly wanted to impress. 

“Loki,” he said. His apprehension skyrocketed at his name. “I’d like you to come back and assist with some of the accounting work.” There was a pause. Loki’s lips pressed down tight. “You can’t do dealings with those marks on your arms,” he said with unnecessary disdain. “But your brother needs someone capable in the accounting department.” 

“Then I suggest you post a hiring notice,” Loki said. 

“I’m getting older,” Odin said. “I may retire in a few years, and I wish to see my sons running my company. Loki. You can’t work in tattoos forever. Where’s the money in that?” 

Loki didn’t see a single part of that statement that deserved a reply. 

“You were always so brilliant in school. I hate to see your talent wasted.” 

“I have made it quite clear that I have no intention of working on your behalf,” Loki said.

“Loki. Let me help you. Your mother is so worried about you.” 

“Please stop calling me.” 

There was a long breath drawn on the other line. When Odin spoke, it was in a simple, self-assured statement. “This is not the last we will speak of this.” 

Loki clicked the phone off and tossed it onto his bed. As if his father had to say it. They had been arguing for years, and he saw no end to it. He wouldn’t take on his father’s company. He didn’t need Asgard Industries. 

He had spent long enough thinking that it needed him. 

Loki dressed himself in jeans and a hoodie and went down to the park. He walked until he was bored, studying the fading colors in the leaves. When he returned home, he watched television. Eventually Thor returned. 

He was wearing sweat stained clothes from playing football and went to shower immediately. Loki hadn’t moved from his slumped position on the couch when he came back out. “Did you eat dinner?” Thor asked. 

“Our father called this morning,” Loki said. “He wants me in the accounting department.” 

Thor sighed loudly. He sat down on the end of the couch. “Again,” he said. “I told him that I’d find someone.” 

“Not fast enough, apparently.” Loki’s melancholy had not left him in the least. The couch bounced as Thor stood back up. 

“I can’t just find someone overnight,” Thor said irritably. “I’m ordering pizza. Are you in or not?” 

Loki rolled over onto his back. “Are you getting deep stuffed again?” 

“You won’t eat the thin crust,” Thor answered, taking out his phone. “I’m getting everything, you can pick off what you don’t want.” 

“Just order half of it the way I want,” Loki said, sitting up. 

“Why don’t I just order one for you and one for me?” 

“Fine,” Loki said. 

When it arrived, they both sat listlessly on the couch, eating slowly. The television flashed in front of them as they tore through the pizza. Loki had a mouthful of cheese when Thor spoke up. “Before we played, Steve told me about Tony last night.” Loki’s jaw moved in one stiff motion. “He didn’t know about how Tony’s been acting with you.” 

Loki swallowed hard. “Steve’s patience with Tony is thin too.” 

“Not necessarily,” Thor said. It was said neutrally, but Loki found himself annoyed by it. “Steve’s sort of had to take care of Tony a lot. Their dads were close, they’re practically brothers.” 

Loki made a dismissive sound and took another bite, stuffing his mouth. 

Thor kept right along with his train of thought. “Tony had a lot of arguments with his father and they didn’t get along. They had a heated argument the night Tony’s parents died. It was a car accident. I think Tony carries a lot of guilt around from it. He found journals of his dad’s or something afterward. I think it messed him up a bit,” Thor said. He reached forward and grabbed his drink. 

“Why are you telling me this? Am I supposed to feel bad for him?” Loki asked, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. There was a sardonic glint in his eye. 

“No,” Thor said. “I’m not telling you because I think it makes how he acted towards you okay,” he said impatiently. He was offended that Loki would jump to that. “Steve cares about him. He might get fed up with him, but Steve cares. Tony was there for him when Bucky died.” 

Loki didn’t know what to say to that. He remembered Steve saying that there was something Tony needed to let himself feel. Loki tried not to think about when Tony was sitting where he was now, watching a game with Thor, looking for the next distraction that would numb him for a while. 

“You’re getting cheese on the couch,” Thor said. 

“Am not,” Loki said instantly, wiping it away with his sleeve. Thor sighed. 

“We have napkins and paper towels.” 

“This is old and we have a washing machine.” 

“Brat.” 

“Mother hen.” 

Thor stared deadpan as his younger brother shoved the rest of his pizza slice into his mouth, getting more cheese on the couch. Loki looked down. With a stubborn groan he got up as Thor declared, “I told you so.” 

 

It was three weeks before Loki got a text from Steve saying that the painting was finished. There had been texts in-between that, but Loki got the sense that Steve had been sidelined by commissions. 

Steve came in to install it after the shop had closed. “You can’t look until I get it up,” Steve said. Loki leaned around him, trying to steal a glimpse inside of Steve’s car. “Go sit down back there and promise me that you won’t look,” Steve said. He grabbed Loki’s shoulders and prodded him back towards the inside of the shop. 

“What’s the fun in that?” Loki complained. 

“I’ll take it back,” Steve said. Loki rolled his eyes. “I will.” 

Loki stepped back, holding his hands up. “If you insist,” he said. Steve grinned at him. He didn’t step away from the door until Loki had taken a seat at the back of his shop and turned away. 

“Don’t you dare turn around,” Steve called back as he went outside. Loki leaned his weight back onto his hands. As if Steve would know if he did. Loki wouldn’t peek, but only because Steve had asked him not to. 

He listened to the hammer pound as Steve drove a metal hanger into the wall, and then the sound of canvas being eased into place. Steve’s footsteps came over to him. “Okay,” he said. 

Loki stood immediately. When he turned around he was struck by Steve’s face first, smiling in eager excitement. Then he saw the painting. 

He didn’t feel himself walk up to it. The painting was a stunning abstraction of colors, sculpted around forms that gave Loki a vague sense and recognition of art on a body. He felt inspired and serene at the same time. “It’s wonderful,” Loki said, restraining the urge to run his fingers along the peaks and valleys of dried paint. 

“An even trade, I think,” Steve said. He never felt as satisfied as when he saw someone enjoying his work. It was a while before Loki was able to pull his attention away from the canvas. 

“Thank you.” 

“You too,” Steve said. He had taken a seat on the edge of a padded table. “It means a lot to me.” Loki smiled softly. He took a seat in his chair, where he felt most at home. “You should come around more,” Steve said, rubbing his nose. “Everyone liked having you at the party.” 

“I will,” Loki said. 

“I mean it,” Steve said. “Don’t be a stranger.” Loki grinned with closed lips. He leaned his arm over the back of his chair. “And, uh, if Tony acts weird I’ll get him back in line.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly. He looked away. “I think he’s a little bitter that you didn’t want to go out with him. He’s not used to rejection.” 

“It’s alright,” Loki said. “You’re not responsible for him.” 

“He’ll come around,” Steve said. “I don’t want you to hate him. He’s clueless sometimes and doesn’t know how to handle himself, but he doesn’t have a bad heart. I think he’s kind of hurt. He really did like you. Honestly.” Steve glanced over at Loki, nervous about his reaction. It was difficult to read his face. “You’re smart, and I think Tony felt like he could have a peer in you. He’s terrible at expressing himself.” 

Loki traced one of the lines on his forearm. If Tony was hurt, so was he. Tony had wronged him in more than one way. He didn’t feel comfortable around Tony and he didn’t feel sympathetic towards him. Loki didn’t want a resolution. He didn’t care for Tony’s apology. Keeping the invisible line between them was preferable. “I won’t antagonize him,” Loki said. 

Steve ran his fingers back through his hair. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in the group.” 

“Then perhaps you should spoil me,” Loki said. “I think next time you should let me pick out all of the beer and then buy it for me?” He smirked. 

Steve laughed. “Okay, maybe not _that_ comfortable.” 

 

They stayed in the shop talking until Steve had to leave. He sent a text afterwards inviting Loki to the movies with everyone. 

In the following weeks, Loki began accepting group invitations. Though Tony was often there, the line stayed. No one commented on it, and Loki and Tony didn’t speak unless it was strictly necessary. 

Loki caught him watching, more than once. Sometimes he thought Rhodey was watching him too, but with a pinched sort of concern or judgment that didn’t make sense to him. If Tony wasn’t over it, Loki couldn’t say that the feeling was unfamiliar. He had to accept that he had feelings for Steve, and it was all the worse to see how Peggy could make Steve fluster. 

Sometimes he turned invitations down to avoid feeling it at all. The shop demanded a lot of his time, and he was considering expanding. 

 

It was one of the nights that he had turned down an invitation. He sent a brief text and set his phone down on the table. Sigyn was almost finished doing her part of closing up, and he hadn’t even started yet. Outside it was dark, with nothing but city lights. The shop was dim. He let his attention drift again. 

“You stare at that painting a lot, you know.” Sigyn spoke quietly. Loki looked up from his chair. 

“Do I?” 

Sigyn nodded her head to the side. A wry, almost reassuring smile was below her bright eyes. “Do you want to tell me about it?” She propped her feet up on the chair in front of her so that she could lean her elbows down onto her knees. Her face was cradled between her hands. 

It didn’t feel intrusive when Sigyn asked. Loki stopped fidgeting with his phone and leaned back into his chair. He rubbed his thumb against his palm. “He’s just a friend.” 

Sigyn looked down at her own hands. She remained hunched over her knees, but she turned her hand to study her iridescent nail polish. “There was this girl I fell in love with,” she said softly. “I was too young to really understand it and for a long time, I tried not to think about it. I didn’t know how to understand it. I didn’t grow up in a family where that was okay. I didn’t even know it was possible, actually.” She opened and closed her hand. “When I finally admitted to myself that I was in love with her, I knew nothing was going to come of it. She couldn’t love me back.” Sigyn tucked her dark hair back behind her ear. “It hurt, but it’s a good memory to me because I learned something about myself.” She entwined her fingers together, staring at Loki. 

The confession in her voice and the steadiness in her eyes combined with the fact that it was Sigyn talking set Loki at ease. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as well. “I already know myself,” Loki said. “That’s the problem.” He said it finitely, but as soon as he did, he thought of Tony and all the people like Tony before, and felt a compulsion to say it flat out. “I’m asexual.” 

“Okay,” Sigyn said. Loki felt something click in his chest at the tone in her voice, making him feel warmer. “Are you okay with that?” 

“Yes,” Loki said. His voice snapped between urgency and indignation. 

“Then,” Sigyn said, not letting a moment slip, “how do you feel about it?” 

“I’m fine with it,” Loki muttered, soft and low. He brushed his pointer finger across his bottom lip with clasped hands, looking away. “It’s the world I’m living in that I’m not fine with.” He felt his blood run cold. He could only move his eyes back towards Sigyn, the rest of his body stiff and immobile. 

She was smiling on one side of her mouth with soft eyes. “That’s okay,” she said. 

“No. It isn’t.” Loki set his chin on his fingers. He didn’t feel angry with Sigyn. He cared for her, and felt responsible for her. Since he’d given her a chair in the shop, he’d felt that she was family. In an odd way. He trusted her. She was the first person to come into this life that he’d made on his own, not depending on his parents for support. That made it difficult to fault her in the way he would someone else. 

“You’re allowed to be not fine with it,” Sigyn said. “That’s okay.” 

There was faint gloss to his eyes as he looked into hers. Whether it was fatigue or something else, she couldn’t tell. In the dim shop light, with city streetlights outside casting reds and golds across the concrete floor, he looked exceptional. “I can’t be what someone else wants.” 

“Loki,” Sigyn said delicately. She looked up to him immensely, and his admission made her heart ache. “You don’t know that,” she said. Her voice was barely above a whisper. It felt more honest that way. “I—I don’t think you should sell yourself short. If someone can’t accept that that’s a part of who you are, they don’t deserve you.” 

“Sigyn,” Loki said, smiling stiffly. “People may say that at first, but they don’t really mean it. It’s not something that other people want to give up. I can’t ask someone to and I can’t betray myself.” He straightened his shoulders. 

“Don’t get me wrong, there can be something to sex, but it’s not everything.” She picked at a chip in her nail polish. “I don’t know what you’re looking for, but there are relationships that are about more than sex.” He found himself listening to her attentively, if only because she spoke so frankly. It wasn’t as if she was speaking down to him or trying to placate him. There was something of her heart coming through. “Even if you were attracted to pretty much everything, like me, I don’t know if you’d find life entirely different. There aren’t any guarantees.” 

Loki sighed, rolling his shoulders. “I know you know that,” Sigyn said. “But I guess what I’m trying to say is that we don’t know what the future holds. Maybe that right person is out there, and maybe they’re not. That’s true for all of us. We don't have any control over that.” 

“But I think,” Sigyn said, twirling her loose hair back into a ponytail, “that you’ve already done something really great. And I admire you. You’re you. And you…you don’t apologize for that. I’m still learning to do that. I’ve…done a lot of things that I didn’t really care about because I couldn't do that and…I really admire you for being true to who you are.” She smiled a little uncomfortably, dropping her hands in front of her. “That’s kind of badass, honestly.” She said it with a self-conscious laugh. 

Loki reached forward and grabbed one of her free hands, turning it palm side up. He squeezed her hand before letting go. “And you were just telling me not to sell myself short,” he said. “You’ve got that badass streak in you too, Sigyn.” He stood up as a slow smile of received approval slid across Sigyn’s face. “I’ve seen you stand up for yourself more than once in here.” 

She watched her boss meander slowly towards the front desk and begin closing procedures. The unanticipated praise had humbled her immensely. She felt closer to him too, though they were both well aware of the professional lines he maintained. 

He heard her pick her bag up off the floor. “Loki?” 

He looked up at her, finding that he felt fonder towards her, a little more protective even. She nodded her head towards the painting. “Does he know?” 

“Yes,” Loki said, returning his attention to counting down the register. Sigyn’s boots clinked against the floor as she walked up to the desk. 

“I hope so too,” she said. 

Loki’s hands stilled. “Hope what?” He asked, his polished voice lingering on the word. 

“For things to work out.” She leaned her head to the side. “That’s how I apprenticed, and found this shop. So for other things…everything that I want…I keep hoping.” She looked at him in earnest before walking towards the door. Sigyn bit her lip, desperately fretting that she had said too much. 

“Thank you,” Loki said, when she reached her hand out for the door. 

Sigyn shook her head. “You’ve helped me so many times. I’m still in your debt.” 

Loki grinned. “Then I expect you to be on time tomorrow,” he said. 

Sigyn relaxed as she grabbed the door handle. “I was kind of hoping you’d let me skip out on my debts,” she said playfully.

“Not a chance,” Loki said. 

“If that’s how you’re going to be about it.” Sigyn grinned as she leaned her weight against the door. “Goodnight,” she said. 

“Goodnight,” Loki answered. The bells chimed as Sigyn let herself out, walking calmly into the night. 

Loki finished closing up, but took a seat at the counter when he was finished. Outside a streetlight was blinking, casting long flashing lines of red across the floor. He stared at the painting, and then his shop, taking each item and the memories it held in. He had made this shop happen. Other things could too. Perhaps Sigyn was right. If anything, he had hope.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, and thank you to all of you that asked for more for giving this story the push it needed to be a little bit more. I'm humbled by your support and all of the wonderful input that brought this story together. Although Loki doesn't wind up with Steve or Tony in this last chapter, I wanted it to be a story more about Loki's experience rather than about writing him off in a pairing with a happily ever after at the end. Please let me know anything you thought going through reading, thoughts, feelings, interpretations, or suggestions. What you would say. Thanks!

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is only available on aO3 and cannot be posted, duplicated, or copied anywhere else.


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